


Lion's Trial

by wolfandwild



Series: Lion of the Alliance [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Mage, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Warlords of Draenor (Spoilers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 19:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfandwild/pseuds/wolfandwild
Summary: A routine visit to Stormshield soon becomes a greater adventure for Varian Wrynn, when his mission is betrayed from within the Alliance. Now lost in the wilds of Tanaan Jungle with only a troubled young mage to help him, the King of Stormwind must outwit the hunters of the Iron Horde if he is to survive and make his way home.





	1. Khadgar

**Author's Note:**

> This work has previously been published on Fanfiction.net, though I'm currently in the process of cross-posting the entire series to AO3.
> 
> I intend to do some fairly major revisions and expansions to the series in future (particularly to the first two/three volumes), but for now this will have to do!
> 
> A big thank you to LannaKitty for answering my noobish questions about A03, and encouraging me to cross-post.

Khadgar’s fingers twitched in his pockets as he paced nervously around his study, perched high in the tower above the shining Zangarra swamp. It was about half an hour before dawn on Draenor, but the Archmage was nevertheless wide awake.

After all, today was an important day.

He had led the expedition through to the alternate Draenor around a month ago, so as to prevent the Iron Horde invasion of Azeroth and to bring justice to the disgraced orc Garrosh Hellscream. Yet while his expeditionary force had been initially successful in their attempt to bring down Dark Portal, they were now coming to terms with the reality of an extended siege on an alien world separated from Azeroth by both space and time. Still, they had at least made some inroads into the wild continent; Khadgar’s own mage tower now a well-established beacon of the arcane. The Alliance and the Horde had also established substantial bases at Stormshield and Warspear, respectively, along with small, permanent portals to Azeroth Prime.

The successful founding of Stormshield meant that the base would today play host to Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind and High King of the Alliance. Varian had made his desire to see the Alliance's progress abundantly clear, though Khadgar had put off the visit for as long as possible. While Varian was an exceptionally capable and battle-hardened warrior, Khadgar was uneasy about bringing him through to Draenor. He was too important to the Alliance, to _Azeroth_ , to risk at the unstable front of a violent and unpredictable war. Khadgar knew it, and doubtless the Iron Horde knew it too, courtesy of Garrosh Hellscream. But Varian was Varian, and he had insisted on making the journey to Draenor. Another time, Khadgar might have admired a king who was determined to experience the war alongside his men, but right now he found it damned annoying.

Fortunately, Khadgar had managed to convince Varian to submit to at least a few safety precautions. Only a select few personnel knew of his impending visit, and his dawn arrival in Stormshield was intended to minimise the risk of him being seen. The High King would be accompanied by the best of his guard, as well as several agents from SI:7. Khadgar had also hand-picked a number of his most trusted and powerful mage allies to accompany him. He'd considered informing Thrall, too, in case the orc shaman had any intelligence that might keep the King safer, but Varian had expressly forbidden such contact. Although champions of the Alliance and Horde had stormed the Dark Portal together, there was still no love lost between the two factions, and for Varian especially. Khadgar  _had_ hoped that a common foe would be enough to unite the Alliance and the Horde, but it seemed that old hatreds ran deep.

He sighed, lost in thought, when a sudden sharp knock at his door interrupted his brooding reverie.

"Enter," he said, immediately ceasing his agitated pacing.

It wouldn't do for one of his associates to see him so nervous, and he forced himself to stay still as a small, pale human woman entered the room.

"Auriana," Khadgar said warmly, smiling in recognition. "Good morning."

"And you, Archmage," she replied crisply.

 _Always so formal,_ Khadgar mused.

As a mage, Auriana was enormously talented, but as a young woman, she was... troubled. Khadgar wasn't sure what had happened in her past, but it had left her with a rigid adherence to formality, and a heart as cold as the ice she wielded. She had once been an active member of the Kirin Tor, before taking on a role as an officer in the Alliance military, though he knew she had aided Jaina Proudmoore as a soldier of the Kirin Tor Offensive in Pandaria. She had also been one of the first to sign on to undertake the mission through the Dark Portal, and in their time together on Draenor, Khadgar had discovered her to be brave and resourceful, though always distant. He had attempted to take on a role as her mentor, given her likely importance to the overall success on Draenor, but she had mostly resisted his attempts to get to know her on a more personal level. Auriana was a problem for another day however, as right now he needed her skill, not her friendliness.

"It's time?" he asked her reluctantly.

"Yes. His Majesty will be ready to enter the portal from Stormwind in ten minutes. The others have already ported to Stormshield. Only you and I remain," she said quietly.

Khadgar nodded, and he studied her face carefully as he gathered his things. While her face was a mask of inscrutable calm, in her dark blue eyes he saw an echo of the same concern he himself felt. He also couldn't help but notice that she was heavily armoured, and it worried him to see that she, too, was anticipating trouble.

“I hope this won’t take long, Khadgar, I have better things to do than babysit royalty,” she added coldly. “I’m needed back in my garrison.”

"Then we should depart at once," he said smoothly, purposefully ignoring her strange hostility towards their mission.

Khadgar did not feel that it was his place to question, and nor could he afford such distractions with the imminent arrival of the King of Stormwind. He managed to give her a friendly smile, at least, as he extended his arcane power and reached out for the point in the ley network he identified as Stormshield base. He was particularly skilled when it came to portals, and the air in the centre of his study immediately rippled and split at his command. Auriana's eyebrows quirked upwards slightly at the speed at which the portal had opened before them, but she said not a word as she gracefully through the portal ahead of him, and disappeared in a flash of light.

* * *

Stormshield materialised quickly around the two mages; the dim interior of Khadgar's Zangarra study quickly giving way to the cool, crisp air of early morning. At this hour of the day, the Alliance base was mostly quiet and still, save for a few lonely guards patrolling the perimeter. Khadgar was pleased to see that considerable advances in base construction had been made since his last visit, though it would still be some time before Stormshield was entirely complete. Nevertheless, progress was always encouraging, and Khadgar's mood lifted slightly as he and Auriana strode purposefully towards the permanent portal linking Stormshield to Stormwind. Establishing a portal back to Azeroth Prime had been one of Khadgar's first priorities after the initial siege, though casting across space and time had proven a very difficult task. He had eventually succeeded, after some creative magical work, but the portal needed to be monitored and maintained every minute of every day by teams of Alliance mages on both sides. It also wasn't as large as the Dark Portal, of course, and impractical for moving armies, but it served well enough to provide a small link between Draenor and home.

Unsurprisingly, they found the portal already surrounded, as those aware of the royal expedition prepared to meet their King. As requested, Khadgar's four other mages were there, along with an honour guard of twelve Alliance infantry, who saluted crisply as he approached. Not one used to displays of military protocol, he offered them a smile and an awkward sort of half wave in response. Mercifully, it seemed to be enough, and the soldiers quickly lowered their arms.

The small group stood in silence as they waited, and in a few short minutes the first rays of the dawning sun crested the horizon and set the soldier's armour shining like burnished gold. A second later, right on cue, the portal to Stormwind rippled, and a number of people began to emerge. First came a full compliment of twenty soldiers in heavy plate, members of the Stormwind Kingsguard, followed immediately by four lean looking rogues in well-worn leathers. From their guarded, suspicious expressions and precise movements, Khadgar assumed they were the SI:7 contingent, and he was immensely glad for their presence.

There was a moment's pause, and then _he_ emerged, followed at last by a particularly hard-eyed warrior. Whatever one might think of Varian Wrynn as a man or as a King, Khadgar mused, there was no denying the sheer power of his physical presence. He stood a full head above almost all of the assembled soldiers, and he absolutely dwarfed the petite Auriana. His distinctive armour absolutely gleamed, the proud lion and gryphon shoulder plates looking almost alive in the soft light of dawn, and he moved with the confidence and preternatural grace of a seasoned warrior. The great sword Shalamayne sat casually upon his hip, exuding a quiet but deadly aura of power, and his sharp blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they swept critically over Stormshield. In short, he looked every inch a man born to be a king.

Khadgar bowed low.

"Welcome to Stormshield, my Lord," he said formally.

Varian was a difficult man to read, but to Khadgar's surprise, he quickly extended a gauntleted fist, and fairly pulled the Archmage back to his feet.

"Khadgar, old friend. Let's not stand on formality," the King said firmly, offering a rare smile as he shook Khadgar's hand with great vigour. "It's Varian."

Up close, the Lord of Stormwind seemed alert and strangely almost over-eager, and Khadgar wondered whether there was more to this visit than a simple base inspection. While Varian was always a forceful personality, he had pushed harder for this visit than even Khadgar had expected, and he had grown increasingly more agitated the longer Khadgar had resisted.

 _Such speculation is best left for another time,_ Khadgar reminded himself sternly.  _Your only concern is keeping him alive._

"Very well then, Varian," he said finally, as he gestured grandly out across the wild and dramatic landscape behind them. "Welcome to Draenor."


	2. Varian

Varian took a moment to take a deep breath, and his nose wrinkled slightly as he took in the foreign scents of Draenor mingled with the more familiar smell of human industry. He sighed, pleased to be out in the fresh morning air, and for a moment he simply stood still and took stock of his surroundings.

If he were being completely honest with himself, his reasons for coming to Stormshield were somewhat selfish. The last time he'd left Stormwind was to lay siege to Orgrimmar and wrest it from the mad hands of Garrosh Hellscream, and since then, he'd spent all his time in Stormwind Keep. He hated to send good men to die on an alien world while he sat safe in his Keep, and it rankled him to have been forced to stay behind while his armies had stormed the Dark Portal. Logically, he knew his people needed a King,and not just a warrior, but sometimes he wished he could serve them from the front lines rather than from a throne. 

He was... restless.

Varian then realised that Khadgar was staring, and he motioned his personal bodyguard forwards.

"Khadgar, I'd like you to meet Captain Martem Crewe, my bodyguard. I believe you insisted I bring protection?"

Khadgar sized up the Captain thoughtfully, nodding briefly in approval at the man’s heavy armour and wicked blade. Personally, Varian found Crewe dull and utterly humourless, but the Captain was an excellent swordsman and unfailingly loyal to his King.

"A pleasure, Captain," Khadgar said smoothly. "I hope you don't mind, Varian, but I also bought some extra protection."

"What's another group of people following me around?" Varian said, only half-joking.

A brief frown flickered across Khadgar’s face, and with his white hair and grandfatherly air, Varian found it was easy to forget that they weren't that far apart in age. The Archmage continued undaunted, however, and gestured to the five robed figures standing just behind him. 

Mages, Varian thought, giving each of them a cursory once-over. 

The closest of the group was a lanky, red-headed man who exuded a raw, nervous energy; flanked by an elegant, lilac skinned Night Elf woman and two bulky blonde men who looked they might have been twins; and finally a small, dark-haired woman with eyes like ice.

"Might I present Aleister Croft, Reyna Wintermoon, Finn and Connar Maclir, and Auriana Fenwild," Khadgar said, pointing down the line as he spoke.

Each of the mages bowed with remarkable synchronicity, and Varian offered them a small but sincere nod of thanks. He likely wouldn't remember their names, but he was truly grateful for their service to the Alliance.

Khadgar motioned Varian forward, and like all good bodyguards, Crewe and Khadgar's mages fell into silent step behind their King. Varian felt somewhat ridiculous, traipsing around a nearly deserted Alliance base with a small army of forty people at his heels, but such was the price of being King, and he tolerated their presence with relative good humour as Khadgar gave him the complete tour of Stormshield. 

He had read about the base’s progress in the garrison reports from Lunarfall, though it was something else entirely to see the rapidly growing outpost for himself. Draenor’s terrain was wild and difficult, but the Alliance builders had done their best, and had managed to carve out a large that would not have looked out of place back home on Azeroth. Varian was also impressed by the speed at which the base had been constructed in the relatively short time since the expedition had stormed the Dark Portal, though admittedly, Stormshield wasn't what he had come here to see. 

Not really.

Feeling he had been polite enough, he gently stopped Khadgar midway through his tour, and fixed the Archmage with a penetrating stare.

"Khadgar, with all due respect, if you've seen one auction house, you've seen them all."

"Fair point, Varian," Khadgar agreed, though he looked suddenly suspicious.

"I was hoping to see something slightly more interesting," Varian continued hopefully, trying to keep his tone light and casual.

"I suppose we could visit my tower in Zangarra..." Khadgar offered reluctantly, though it was clear he was unhappy.

"Actually, I had something more specific in mind,” Varian insisted. “I want to see the Dark Portal."

"Absolutely not," Khadgar protested, suddenly fierce. "That area is still deep in Iron Horde territory. King or no, it's out of the question."

Varian generally appreciated a man who was not easily cowed by a king, and he could respect Khadgar’s bravery. He also supposed that a lesser man would be persuaded by Khadgar's vehemence, but Varian Wrynn was not one to be easily swayed from his desires. He couldn't explain it, but he needed to see the Portal, to take the measure of this new Horde for himself. He hadn't seen the original Portal, the one that had spewed forth the tide of death and destruction that had claimed the life of his father, but he was determined to see this one. He was determined to understand this Horde... and to crush them.

"Except it isn't," he said to Khadgar. "I know you and the draenei established a small covert operations base near the Portal to be sure you had warning if it were reopened. I've read the reports."

"Varian..."

"Khadgar," he countered seriously. "We are going. I don't want to take tea there, I just want a view of the strategic area, and to get a read on this Iron Horde. In and out. Despite your command of operations here, you are still technically a member of the Alliance, and you will obey me in this."

"’In and out’," Khadgar repeated reluctantly, and sighed. “I suppose you’re going to insist?”  
Varian knew the Archmage was thoroughly displeased, and silently promised himself that he'd make it up to the man for browbeating him into acquiescence. After their trip to the Portal, of course.

He nodded.

"We can't take your full entourage," said Khadgar. "The base is carefully concealed by a cloaking shield, and we won't all fit."

"How many?" Varian asked, trying not to show his enthusiasm overmuch.

"Perhaps twenty. My mages and I must be included in that number, or I won't do it," Khadgar said finally, after a long consideration of the question.

"Agreed," said the King, and he noticed that Khadgar looked somewhat mollified.

He beckoned to Crewe. 

"Pick your eight best, Captain. All the SI:7 agents will come, as well."

"As you wish, my Lord," Crewe said seriously, though he looked thoroughly displeased at this turn of events.

"Auri," Khadgar said to the little mage with the intense eyes, "Do you know the portal?"

"Yes, Archmage," she replied confidently.

"Scout it, please," Khadgar ordered.

The little mage nodded respectfully at Khadgar, but as she summoned a bright burst of power between her hands, she shot Varian a stern and disapproving look. He frowned, confused, but she vanished into the ether before he could make a comment.

"We will only go through if she gives the go-ahead," Khadgar added to Varian.

"Of course," the King said smoothly, not wanting to give the Archmage any excuse to back out now.  
As they waited, the nervous looking mage - Croft, Varian recalled - stepped forward and whispered something in Khadgar's ear. Khadgar nodded, and the mage loped away from Varian’s little group and disappeared down into the lower section of Stormshield. He returned a nearly ten minutes later with some supply bandoliers, which he quickly distributed amongst his fellow mages. No-one dared speak, and the air grew thick with tension as they awaited word from the Dark Portal. 

Varian accepted Khadgar's reproach, implicit in his silence, and made no effort to engage the displeased Archmage in conversation. That said, the silence grew more awkward by the minute, and Varian was immensely grateful when a bright flash finally lit up the pale grey morning as the slight female mage reappeared.

"Well?" asked Khadgar.

"Vindicator Khauun isn't happy," she reported, with another sidelong glance at Varian, "But he sees no immediate danger. After the destruction of the Dark Portal, only routine patrols have been sighted in the area. We should be safe for a quick reconnaissance."

"Very well, then,” Khadgar grumbled. “Prepare the portal. I will go through first, followed by Reyna, Connar and Finn, Crewe and SI:7, King Varian, the Kingsguard, and finally Aleister and Auriana."

Varian’s guard leapt to crip attention at the Archmage’s words, and began to organize themselves with superb efficiency, while Khadgar gripped Varian's arm with surprising intensity.

"Five minutes, no more. I won't risk you for any longer than that, Varian. I won't risk them, either," he said quietly, gesturing to the brave men and women who were willing to lay down their lives for Varian if necessary.

Varian acquiesced with a tight nod as a portal shimmered into existence in front of him, though he would have ideally preferred a longer visit. He had no desire to risk lives unnecessarily, of course, but his blood surged at the thought of adventure, and he tried not to show too much of his pleasure on his face. This is what he was here for, to face the Iron menace and truly understand the plight the Alliance faced, and his fingers twitched eagerly as he watched Khadgar vanish through the portal. Two of the mages followed, then Crewe and the rogues of SI:7, and then it was his turn. Despite Khadgar’s fears, Varian strode into the portal without hesitation, eager as he was to make the journey into the belly of the beast, and he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as Stormshield warped, twisted, and finally disappeared around him.


	3. Khadgar

The small group stepped silently through into the cover of the small, cloaked base; an uneasy nervousness pervading their every move. The portal snapped shut after Aleister Croft, the last member of their little scouting party, stepped through, and they immediately spread out in a defensive circle. Varian and Khadgarwere given a warm, if hushed, greeting by Vindicator Khauun and his two draenei accomplices, though the Vindicator wasted no time getting down to business.

The base was a spartan affair, in truth little more than a campfire and a shelter that could be moved very quickly. The cloak was maintained by a trio of ensorcelled runes that marked or an area of about twenty feet in diameter, and it clearly had not been designed to house such an entourage. They all fit, but it was a something of a tight squeeze. Auriana, in particular, looked rather uncomfortable to have been squished in between the Maclir twins, though curiously neither brother seemed to mind.

Varian's soldiers had formed a neat, practiced perimeter around their King, whilst leaving him ample room to see out across the valley below. The base was perched on a densely tree covered hill about four miles from the Dark Portal, and was ideally placed so as to command a view of the entire area. The great stone structure was clearly visible in the distance, though Vindicator Khauun had offered Varian a spyglass so he could better see the Portal and its surrounds.

The two were quickly deep in quiet conversation, Khauun pointing out various points of interest and Varian asking questions about their strategic importance. Khadgar listened with only one ear, more intent on watching the jungle for any sign of movement than listening to their conversation.

Martem Crewe, he noted, was doing the same.

His eyes sharp and suspicious, the King's bodyguard gestured to two of the SI:7 agents. A quick, silent order was given, and the two agents stepped out of the cover of the cloak and vanished into the thick jungle. The undergrowth was so dense here that the rogues were invisible only steps outside the outpost, and they made not a sound as they crept off to scout the area. It was one of the reasons this site had been chosen for the covert base, but right now it made Khadgar's job very difficult. He found himself tapping his foot impatiently, but stopped when a guard gave him a strange look.

He walked over to Khauun and Varian.

"The forces in Tanaan seem to be mainly made up of Bleeding Hollow clan, though there are plenty of Warsong brutes running around," said Khauun. "Hellscream keeps a tight hold on the other clans."

Varian's visage darkened at the mention of the name Hellscream, and his mouth drew into a thin, angry line.

"Is that a weakness we could exploit?" he asked Khauun. "Are there any ambitious Warlords who could be… persuaded… into making an attempt for leadership of the Horde? A civil war would go a long way to helping our cause."

Khauun considered the question thoughtfully.

"I do not think so," he said finally. "Grommash Hellscream saved them from the machinations of Gul'dan and Mannoroth, and has offered them a whole new world to conquer. Thus far he has delivered on his promise of blood and glory. I do not think they will betray him."

"Very well," said Varian, though he looked displeased at the answer. "We will just have to win this war the old-fashioned way, then - by exterminating every last one of them like the vermin that they are."

Khadgar coughed slightly.

"I apologise. Varian, Vindicator Khauun; but we really should be getting back to Stormshield now. I can have the portal up in just a moment."

"Come now, Khadgar," Varian said, with an exasperated growl. "We've only just got here, and there is no sign of the Iron Horde. They have no idea that we're even…"

The King cut off abruptly as something rolled between them, coming to rest at Khadgar's boots.  Curious, the Archmage pushed it to the side with one foot, and recoiled in horror as he recognised the object to be the head of one of the SI:7 agents who had left the safety of the cloak. Varian realised at the same time, and the King and Archmage shared a brief look of revulsion.

Martem Crewe was the first to leap into action, drawing his weapon and moving immediately to Varian’s side.

"To arms!" he screamed at the startled guards. "Defend your King!"

The air rang with the sound of drawing metal as the guards unsheathed their swords, and the crushing perimeter closed even tighter around Varian. Vindicator Kahuun, too, drew his heavy hammer, a dangerous look in his blue eyes as he hefted the mighty weapon into a defensive posture. Khadgar summoned all of his considerable power to him, and he saw a bright flash of blue from the corner of his eyes as a water elemental came to life somewhere nearby. Varian himself drew Shalamayne, the massive sword shining in the morning light, and the air grew heavy with nervous energy as the group waited in tense silence for the attack to come.

They didn't have to wait long.

The jungle to the left of Khadgar abruptly exploded, and a wave of snarling, savage orcs poured into the clearing. The first orc through was the first to die, his head caved in by a thundering blow from Khauun's hammer, but he was soon followed by dozens more of his bloodthirsty brethren.

For a moment, all was confusion, until one voice rose above the turmoil.

"For Stormwind!" Varian yelled, his voice fierce and excited.

"Stormwind!" the cry came back. “For King Varian!”

After the shock of the initial attack, the Kingsguard quickly assessed the direction of the orc attack and formed a neat vanguard protecting Varian, Khauun, Khadgar, and the other mages. Despite the orc's superior numbers, the King's little group were fighting exceptionally well. Only a handful of orcs made it past the front line, and those that did immediately regretted their insolence. Varian and Khauun fought back-to-back, Shalamayne and the hammer dealing devastating blows to any orc that dared stand before them.

Despite their skill, however, Khadgar noted that a few of their people had already fallen - one of the Kingsguard was dead, half his face having been torn off by a particularly rapacious orc, as was another of the SI:7 rogues. A second guard was badly injured, but had been dragged to relative safety by one of Khauun's paladins, who was desperately tending to his wounds. The draenei's pale blue palms glowed warm with holy power as he attempted to administer healing, but Khadgar knew he must find it difficult to concentrate amongst the carnage.

The second of Khauun's paladins stood at the vanguard, conjuring an arrow ward made of pure light, ensuring that, at least for the time being, they would be protected from above. Khadgar's mages were also fighting fiercely, doing their part to stem the tide of orcs. The Maclir brothers, both fire mages, were giving as good as they got, ceaselessly sending out wave after wave of bright flame and setting the jungle ablaze. Reyna and Croft were casting furiously as well, the bright purple of their magic lighting up the jungle all around. Khadgar then looked around for the white-blue glow of Auriana's frost magic, and his heart froze in his chest as he realised she wasn't there. Concerned, he scoured the jungle for any sign of her, but all he could see was orc.  There was little he could do right now, however, so furious and terribly afraid, he threw himself into back into his casting with renewed energy.

A large orc suddenly charged through the lines, knocking one of the Kingsguard aside as he threw himself at Varian. Martem Crewe ended his run with a brutal, swift strike, but the precision of the orc's attack chilled Khadgar's bones.

 _They know…_ he realised. _They've known all along...._

"Betrayed!" he yelled at Crewe. "We've been betrayed!"

"I know!" Crewe screamed back. "There's no way they could have…"

The bodyguard's voice was cut off as an orc barrelled into him, and they both went sprawling to the ground. Khadgar blasted the orc off him with a surge of arcane power, and helped Crewe to his feet. Blood now flowed from a cut on the bodyguard's forehead, and his already stern eyes were now dangerously grim.

"We cannot hold against an entire army, Khadgar!" Crewe growled. "I will _not_ let him die out here!"

  
"Nor will I," Khadgar assured him, though as steady wave of orcs continued to pour from the jungle, he had no idea how he was going to keep his promise.


	4. Auriana

Auriana began to suspect that she might be in a bit of trouble.

After the initial ambush, she'd been separated from the main Alliance group when she'd been thrown down the hill by the reckless charge of a snarling orc berserk. She had found herself tumbling headlong through the undergrowth, finally coming to a hard stop against the base of a thick tree, where she now faced four brute-faced orcs alone.

"We're going to make a fine meal out of you, girlie," the biggest one snarled, his broken-tusked visage curling into a hideous grin as he fingered the blade of a vicious looking hunting knife.

He was at least three times Auriana's size, and he glared down at her in precisely the same way that a wolf would stare at a cornered lamb. If given half a chance, he would fillet her from neck to navel, but she was determined not to give him even the slightest opportunity.

"I doubt it," she snapped in reply, hiding her fear behind a savage grin of her own.

Somewhat to her surprise, Brokentusk laughed at her audacity; though she thought 'laugh' was perhaps a generous way to describe the horrible gurgling sound that echoed deep in his chest. He scuffed a toe across the jungle floor as if to charge, while Auriana drew a deep breath and summoned almost as much power as she was able.

Full to the brim with magical energy, her earlier trepidation vanished, and Auriana suddenly felt unstoppable. It was always dangerous, calling on this much power, but at the same time . It made her feel giddy and invincible, like there was nothing she couldn't do, though it also make her reckless. Auriana knew very well that she was particularly susceptible to the indescribable rush of the arcane, but in that moment she found it somewhat difficult to care.

 _Magic is an addiction_ , cautioned the voice of her first master, somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind.

The third law of magic was one worth respecting, but right now power was what Auriana needed, and she had no need to concern herself with restraint.

 _Magic is powerful_ , she thought, and her eyes narrowed.

The moment Brokentusk moved to charge, he was met with a powerful upthrust of ice that slammed mercilessly into his face. Brokentusk – now broken jaw, it seemed - clutched desperately at the ruins of his face, his eyes wide and surprised at the power of the blow.

 _Don't ever underestimate me, orc_ , Auriana growled inwardly as she strode ruthlessly forwards, finishing the startled orc with a powerful frostbolt straight to his heart.

He dropped to the ground, cold and dead. Her blood boiled with magical power, and the orcs that had seemed so menacing only a moment ago seemed now like simple annoyances. The other three orcs startled to see their leader dispatched so handily, but quickly regained their composure.

"Die, human bitch!" the largest of them screamed, and they moved towards her as a group.

They'd barely taken a step forward, however, when Auriana froze them in place with a frost nova, followed by a howling, icy orb that chilled their very bones. Despite being so slowed by the relentless cold, the orcs began using their brutish knives to hack at the ice that encased their legs. Refusing to give them a chance to go on the offensive, Auriana drew strength from the water elemental at her side and summoned three wickedly sharp ice lances. They flew from her fingers with fantastic speed, embedding themselves deep in the throats of each of the orcs. They each dropped uselessly to the ground, like macabre puppets whose strings had been neatly cut.

Now that she was in no immediate danger, Auriana let out a deep breath, and with it, some of the power she had been holding on to. It was always somewhat heartbreaking to let it go, but some dim corner of her mind had realised how close she was to the edge of control.

Shaking her head, she ran into the jungle and up the hill, the water elemental chasing close on her heels. A short distance away, she could see a bright patch of white, stark against the lush green jungle, which she realised must be Khadgar's head. He stood bravely with the vanguard, taking down orc after orc as they sought to cut down the High King.

Wrynn himself was also fighting, she saw, from the brief flashes of bright silver and red that could only be the sword Shalamayne. Just as she was trying to figure out the best path to take her back to Khadgar, however, a shower of leaves burst from the jungle, and a feral eyed orc threw himself upon her in a frenzy. His momentum carried them both to the ground, and she was soon terrifyingly pinned beneath him. She screamed in pain as his knife slashed the back of her arm, but she reacted quickly to encase his arm in solid ice before he could bring it down again for a more decisive blow. He grabbed for her throat, his sharp claws drawing lines of blood across her pale skin, just as she reached up and grabbed his head. He snarled as her nails dug in behind her ear, and tightened his grip on her throat.

Her faithful water elemental harried him from behind, but it wasn't enough to dislodge his position, and Auriana's mind screamed for air as the jungle darkened around her. Desperately, she summoned as much power as she could muster and thrust it at the orc's head. Just when she thought she would pass out, she felt the hands on her throat slacken, and the orc dropped off her to the side, his entire head now encased in a solid block of ice.

Auriana gulped air down greedily for a few seconds, unable to move, before an old battle lesson of her father's came dimly to her oxygen-starved brain.

 _Don't ever fall down in battle_ , he'd told her. _Fall, and you're dead_.

With a supreme effort, the half-strangled mage dragged herself to her feet. Beckoning to her elemental, Auriana resumed her path towards Khadgar's position. The Alliance men were fighting well, and scores of orcs had begun to pile at their feet, but she could see that they wouldn't be able to hold out forever. She willed her sluggish legs to action, and sprinted towards Khadgar.

Just before she hit the orcish line from behind, she summoned her will and blinked, rematerializing behind Khadgar in a mere second. The archmage whirled as he felt her behind him, staff raised to summon death down upon her, but he stayed his hand as he recognised her.

"Auri! l thought you were lost in the initial attack," he said, voice flooding with relief.

As he spoke, he turned back to the fray and blasted two orcs into arcane oblivion, as casually as one might swat a fly. It was easy to forget how powerful the kind archmage was, a lesson she herself was constantly relearning.

"I nearly was," she replied grimly, throwing her efforts behind his own.

"This position is unsustainable," he yelled, ever the master of understatement. "I will help hold the line while you prepare a portal to Stormshield. Get the King through as soon as it opens, before our forces are scattered further."

Auriana nodded, and withdrew slightly from the front line so that she might work in relative peace. She found herself standing next to one of the draenei paladin, who was working feverishly to tend to a pair of wounded soldiers. He gave her a hopeful smile, but Auriana was too distracted to return the gesture.

Instead, she reached out her senses and connected to the paths of ley lines that undercut all of Draenor; indeed that cris-crossed their way across all living worlds. She sought the particular ley point that she knew as Stormshield, and prepared to teleport all the surviving Alliance troops back to the safety of the stronghold.

No sooner had Auriana begun to cast the spell, however, than the target of Stormshield slipped from her grasp, like a half-forgotten memory that quickly faded into nothing. Her cheeks blazed red. She hadn't muffed a portal spell that badly since she'd been an apprentice in her second year. Luckily, in all the chaos, Khadgar seemed not to have noticed.

Gritting her teeth, she tried again, making sure each step of the spell was perfect, and threw as much of her power behind it as she could. But again, the spell failed. She probed more carefully with her magical senses, starting to feel that this problem was not on her end. It felt as if there was something slippery between her and the ley lines underneath Stormshield, and try as she may, she couldn't hold her target in her mind.

"Auriana!" Khadgar yelled. "Where is that portal?"

"Something's wrong! There's something between me and Stormshield," she screamed back, struggling to make herself heard over the din of the melee.

Khadgar whirled, his demeanour calm but his eyes furious.

"We need that portal now!"

"It's not _me_ ," she pleaded with him, more certain now. "Something – or someone – has us cut off from Stormshield."

"Hold my place," he ordered her curtly, and began channelling his own spell.

Auriana dutifully took his place in the lines, firing wave after wave of glittering ice lances. Frustrated by her failure to open the portal, she put more power in to her spells than she may have down otherwise. It made them frighteningly effective, but she was aware she could not keep up this kind of intensity forever.

So lost did she become in her icy assault that she nearly threw an ice lance at Khadgar when he suddenly grabbed her uninjured arm.

"You are right," he said, bending low to speak directly into her left ear. "My spells are being blocked as well. Retreat to Stormshield is no longer an option. The wards around Zangarra have also been tampered with, they won't open for me. We need to get to the King out of here now!"

"I only know the portal for Stormshield!" Auriana protested. "I don't know nearly enough about Draenor's ley network to open a different portal. We could end up anywhere."

"Better than dying right here, but I take your point," Khadgar said quickly, his eyes intense.

"I will create the portal. Help me get to Va..."

"Gronn!" a soldier suddenly screamed, cutting Khadgar off.

Both mages turned in horror to look upon the hulking monstrosity now wading into the fray. To their credit, the Alliance men did not fall back before the nightmarish brute, but the Gronn's charge was devastating for the King's defenders. As the wretched thing barrelled forwards, Alliance men fell left and right. Their forces scattered, losing their earlier coordination. The Gronn, however, gave as much notice as a man might give an ant crushed beneath his heel.

The beast had only one target – the High King - and the path to him was now open. '

"Auri… get to him!" Khadgar shouted desperately, as he charged forward into the melee.

Her arm and throat burning with pain, Auriana turned and made her own way towards the King. The Gronn's charge had separated him from the main group, and he now faced the Iron Horde alone. Unfortunately, the Gronn had the same target in mind, and reached the High King before either she or Khadgar were able. Other Alliance soldiers struggled to make their way towards the King, but the orcs ruthlessly held them back.

From the corner of her eye, Auriana saw a group of six orcs swarm Khadgar. She had no time to help him, however, as she continued to forge her way towards the King. The orcs had taken up a feral war chant, eager to see the monstrous Gronn dispatch the human King. Wrynn was a fighter, however, and Auriana watched in amazement as the King dropped into a fearless battle stance with Shalamayne raised high. He looked eager and fresh, despite the fighting raging around him and the blood on his face and hands.

The Gronn bellowed and charged. The High King responded with a savage snarl of his own, and moved to meet the hulk head on. He moved with the assured grace of a predator, and for a brief moment, Auriana thought he might have the Gronn outmatched. As the beast charged toward him, Wrynn neatly sidestepped and dealt a deep slash across its thigh. Bellowing in pain, feet scrabbling on the forest floor, the Gronn righted itself and came around for another try.

Wrynn stood lightly on the balls of his feet, the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he prepared to face the second charge. Still fighting her way towards him, Auriana had a perfect view of the vicious arrow that pierced the King's calf as the Gronn charged once more. She howled in dismay as Wrynn stumbled, suddenly graceless, just as the Gronn ploughed into him. She heard a hideous crack, audible even over the noise of battle, and watched as the King crumpled to the ground.

"No!" she screamed, and threw herself forward into a blink, reappearing just behind the King.

Out of options, she slid to her knees, grasping desperately at his armour, and pulled him close to her body as she readied her spell. The Gronn now towered above them, its cruel, mindless eyes mad with bloodlust. It raised a brutish fist, ready to pound them into oblivion, as Auriana let out a silent prayer and released her magic. The last thing she saw, above all the chaos and the bloodshed, was Khadgar's reassuring smile, barely visible behind a wall of orc, before she and the King vanished into the nether.

For an all too brief moment, there was the peace of nothingness, but it ended abruptly when Auriana realised they had rematerialised in thin air. She'd barely had time to scream before she and the King plunged several yards down into the still waters of the pool beneath them. For the second time that day, Auriana struggled to breathe as the hefty weight of the King's armour dragged them both down into the blackness. He was clearly unconscious – or dead, a dark part of her mind added – and would be of no use to her anytime soon. Beaten and nearly broken, Auriana poured the last of her energy into a summoning spell. As she began to slip into unconsciousness, she thought she saw the comforting greenish-blue glow of water elementals around her, but perhaps that was simply her tormented mind playing one last cruel trick before the world around her simply faded away.


	5. Khadgar

After Varian and Auriana had disappeared, Khadgar had given the order for the Stormshield force to fall back. He could already hear the unseen orc commander screaming at his orcs to find Varian, and he allowed himself a small smile. With any luck, Varian was hundreds of miles away by now and out of their reach.

Someone grabbed his robes from behind, and he whirled to see a furious Martem Crewe.

"Where the hell is Varian?" he yelled. "He just vanished with one of your mages!"

"She took him to safety," Khadgar hollered back. "Stormshield and Zangarra have been cut off. I told her to take him to Shadowmoon, while we held the ambush back!"

"How can you trust her? You know we've been betrayed! She could be slitting his throat as we speak!"

A snarling, wild-faced orc charged at Khadgar. He sidestepped the orc's charge, and punished him with a vicious spell strike. The orc tumbled to the jungle floor, dead.

"I trust her with my life," Khadgar yelled at Crewe.

"But do you trust her with Varian's?"

"It's a moot point now, they've gone. She saved him from the Gronn at least, and the moment I'm far more worried about us. Gather the group and fall back, and I will transport us to Shadowmoon, where we'll hopefully find Varian."

He could see that Crewe didn't like having Varian out of his sight, but the man was practical enough to understand that there was nothing that could be done about it in the short term. Crewe nodded tersely, and fought his way through the scattered Alliance soldiers, ordering them to fall back to Khadgar's position.

Of the original twenty Alliance soldiers, plus the three draenei paladin, only about a dozen remained, not counting the missing Varian and Auriana. They swarmed to Khadgar, chased by an endless tide of orcs. When they were all within his casting range, he summoned his considerable power and focused his will on Shadowmoon.

"Another time, perhaps," he said to the charging orcs. "But right now we really must dash."

* * *

The small group of surviving Alliance soldiers reappeared in Starfall Outpost, much to the surprise of the group of Sentinels that guarded the area. They reacted instantly, drawing a deadly assortment of bows and glaives on the group, until one of the Sentinels recognised Khadgar.

"Friendlies!" she hollered, waving her fellow soldiers to stand down.

As quickly as they had been ready to fight, the well-trained Sentinels sheathed their weapons, though they all stared at Khadgar's little group with open curiosity.

"Tend to the wounded!" Khadgar ordered them. "And get me a gryphon. I need to get Stormshield urgently."

"Of course, Archmage," replied an imposing Warden, riding up on her big nightsaber. She turned to one of the Sentinels. "There are gryphons at the garrison at Lunarfall, requisition them immediately."

"Hello, Shalis," Khadgar said warmly, as a Sentinel rushed off towards Lunarfall. "Sorry to drop in on you like this, but I've had a rather interesting morning."

He looked around the Outpost hopefully, but there was no sign of either Varian or Auriana.

"Where on earth have you been?" the Warden said, her eyes raking over his bloody robes and dishevelled hair, and the assortment of wounded soldiers.

"Not a word, Khadgar," Martem Crewe interrupted, as Khadgar opened his mouth to reply.

"I apologise, Warden," he continued, with a nod at Shalis, "But the details of our mission are top secret. We are grateful for your aid, but we cannot explain our purpose here today. I will also require a ride to Stormshield."

"Khadgar?" Shalis asked, ignoring Crewe. She was clearly unimpressed by his brusque manner.

"He's right," Khadgar said reluctantly, "Though his manners could use some work. He and I need to be flown to Stormshield immediately… and you can't ask why."

"Very well," she said smoothly, taking it in stride. "What should I do with the rest of your… team?"

"They'll need to be taken to Stormshield as well, and soon, though I suppose Khadgar and I can send gryphons back for them. It is vitally important that no-one here be allowed to leave. They must be kept under guard at all times, even the wounded."

"Why can't you create a portal?" Shalis asked.

Khadgar cursed internally. These Wardens were too smart for their own good, sometimes.

"That is… not an option, at this juncture," he said significantly.

Shalis took the hint, and asked no further questions.

"Understood. Your two gryphons should arrive shortly, and I will ensure that no-one leaves Starfall Outpost without your permission."

As she spoke, one of the Sentinels returned with the two promised gryphons. Khadgar and Crewe mounted without any further preamble. The two gryphons seemed to sense their urgency, and stamped their clawed feet eagerly.

"I will send gryphons for the survivors as soon as we reach Stormshield. Thank you for all your help, Shalis, you've been of great service to us today."

"I'll take your word for it, Khadgar," she called after him, bemused, as the two gryphons launched themselves eagerly into the sky.

* * *

The flight to Stormshield was swift and uneventful. Crewe was not an especially talkative man, though admittedly flying through the air on a gryphon was not particularly conducive to conversation. Both men flew in silence, pushing their gryphons hard, and they arrived at Stormshield in good time.

They landed in the centre square in a flurry of wings. One of the captains of the Stormshield guard raced up to them, throwing a hasty salute as he skidded to a halt. Khadgar recognised him as one of the men they had left behind earlier in the day.

"Archmage!" he exclaimed. "What happened? We expected you back much earlier!"

"We've been betrayed, Captain," he said quietly. "A traitor gave away our mission, and King Varian is now missing. We were ambushed by orcs. The ambush survivors are at Starfall Outpost, we must send gryphons to retrieve them as fast as possible."

"Of… of course," the Captain stammered, trying to absorb the information. "I should…"

"No," Khadgar said, with a sidelong glance at Crewe. "This is just between us three. Make the arrangements, but do it  _quietly_. No-one must know about our lost King. It will create a panic."

Crewe nodded approvingly, though gave the young captain a stern glance for good measure. As the captain rushed away, he turned to Khadgar.

"I want to interview every person who knew about our mission, as soon as they have returned to Stormshield."

"As you wish, but I must depart for Zangarra immediately. I want to find out what happened to my wards."

"No," Crewe said firmly. "I'm sorry, Khadgar, but you aren't above suspicion. You're the most powerful mage here, you knew all the details of his visit, for all I know it was you."

Khadgar seethed, but he could see that Crewe had a point.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll stay in Stormshield. Do I at least have your permission to investigate Stormshield? Something prevented me from opening a portal back here, and I'd like to know what."

Crewe regarded him with narrowed eyes.

"It's our best chance of getting Varian and Auriana back," Khadgar added quickly.

"You have my permission," Crewe said finally. "I suppose it would go a long way to verifying your credibility. Notify me as soon as you have answers, and not a second later. I will start by interviewing the men we left behind this morning."

Without waiting for Khadgar's reply, Crewe turned crisply on his heel and marched off after the young Stormshield captain.

Khadgar shook his head to clear it. He reached out with his senses, looking for any sign of magic around Stormshield. It was hard to identify the anti-portal wards in amongst all the other magic being thrown around, but finally he honed in on a trace signal just outside the gates of Stormshield that led to Ashran proper.

Ignoring the curious glances of various Stormshield citizens, he quickly made his way to the outer gates. The magical trace became stronger and stronger, until Khadgar knew he was practically standing on top of it. Of course, to the naked eye, the area looked completely untouched. To a magical eye, however, there was definitely something there. Khadgar muttered a quick charm, and the ward shimmered into visibility. Line after line of purple-white runes danced in space, illuminating out the parameters of the spell. It didn't look like any spell he'd seen before, but Khadgar wasn't one to be daunted by the unfamiliar. Cracking his knuckles, the Archmage went to work.


	6. Varian

Varian groaned as he came back to consciousness. Everything hurt. His head was pounding, and he could feel dried blood on the side of his face. His shoulder – well, the less he thought about his shoulder, the better, and his calf stung badly where that damn orcish arrow had pierced him. He could also feel a curious pecking sensation somewhere near his hip. Annoyed, he sat up to find a strange looking bird poking him tentatively with its oversized shovel of a beak.

"I'm not dead yet," he told the bird sternly, waving a hand to shoo it away.

Axebeak, he recalled dimly, as the scavenger squawked and jumped away, clearly insulted by his unwillingness to be eaten. It gazed at him reproachfully for a few seconds more, before launching into the air in search of easier prey.

Varian shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He suddenly got the strange feeling he was being watched, and warily gazed about. He rapidly found the source of the feeling - on the other side of the jungle pool, three water elementals bobbed calmly. Although they had no faces, he felt like they were watching him with a sense of curiosity.

They must have dragged me out of the water, he realised, judging from his still wet underclothes. He also realised that some time had evidently passed since they had. When he'd been fighting with the orcs, it had been early morning, but now the jungle was bathed in the soft glow of twilight.

He looked around for the owner of the elementals, and quickly found her lying a few feet away, face down on the jungle floor.

One of Khadgar's mages, he recalled from their earlier meeting. The young woman. Ariana? Orian?

Painfully, he dragged himself over to where she lay, and used his good arm to roll her onto her back. He noted that the shallow but nasty cuts on her throat were beginning to bruise, and that blood had seeped through much of the right arm of her robes. He pressed two calloused fingers to her throat, and was relieved to find her pulse weak but steady. He reached out to her uninjured side and shook her gently.

"Mage," he said, trying to rouse her. "Wake up."

She didn't respond. Not for the first time, Varian wished he had something of Anduin's healing abilities. While he dearly loved being a warrior, he had to admit healing spells had their uses.

Like now, for instance, he mused grimly, and shook the girl more firmly.

She groaned softly, and he was pleased to see her eyes open. She looked up at him groggily, and then with rising panic. She sat up abruptly, and he lurched back as he realised she hadn't yet identified him as friendly. On the other side of the pool, the water elementals stirred, ready to protect their mistress.

"Peace!" he said, holding up his uninjured hand in front of her. "It is I, Varian."

"Varian?" she slurred, blinking rapidly as she tried to focus on his face. "Oh!"

Recognition dawned, and her pale skin flooded crimson. "Your Majesty," she corrected hurriedly, as her full awareness returned.

"What happened here?" he asked her. "Not that I'm ungrateful to be out of that ambush."

"Khadgar... the Gronn... I had no choice, we would've been crushed..." she said hoarsely, rubbing her battered throat. "Stormshield… couldn't get to Stormshield, so I tried to get us to Shadowmoon. My teleport… we ended up in the water."

Varian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. While he was grateful to have avoided being crushed by a Gronn, he wasn't sure his situation had improved much.

At least I'm alive, he supposed.

"So where are we?" he asked.

The mage shook her head. "No idea. I couldn't… uh… aim… very well. I think we're still in Tanaan, though."

Varian frowned, curious, but decided not to push her for more answers until she was more recovered. Judging from the thick, hot jungle around them, he agreed with her assessment of their location. A brief, uncomfortable moment of silence passed. As they sat quietly, a panicked thought suddenly came to Varian.

"Shalamayne!" he cried. "Where is Shalamayne? Did you bring it with us?"

The mage stared at him, her eyes still dull and unfocused. "I… I think so. Yes. It was in your hand…"

"… which means it's now probably at the bottom of that pool," he finished for her, sighing. The pool didn't look particularly deep, but he wasn't exactly in the best shape to go swimming. Grimacing, he tried to gather his weight beneath him.

"No," the mage stopped him, reaching up a small hand to still his movement.

She turned and gestured to the water elementals, and they happily dove into the still, dark water. The mage and the King sat in silence for a few moments, before the three elementals surged to the surface, bearing the gleaming sword between them. They placed it carefully at his feet, seemingly pleased. He found it disconcerting how much emotion he could read in them, despite their lack of faces.

"Thank you," the mage said quietly. For a second, Varian wondered what she was thanking him for, when he realised she was addressing the elementals.

"Er… thank you," he added awkwardly. He wasn't sure how he felt about thanking three blobs of water, but then again, they had saved his sword – and his life.

The mage waved her hand once more, and the elementals vanished in soft sprays of water, off to wherever it was they existed when not on the mortal plane.

"We need to find somewhere to camp for the night, Your Majesty," the mage said, after a pause. Her voice sounded slightly stronger, and her blue eyes seemed clearer. "I'm in no shape to teleport us anywhere, and you look even worse than I do."

He gazed at her appraisingly, noting the blood, bruises, and rends in her pale skin. If he looked the worse of the pair, then he must be in a truly sorry state.

"Agreed," he replied. "You'll have to help me stand, I'm afraid."

There was a small, heavy pause, but eventually she nodded, and gingerly climbed to her own feet. She quickly looked around the clearing in which they found themselves.

"There," she said suddenly, point to a spot just above the pool. "I think that's a cave. Do you think you'd be able to climb up those rocks, Your Majesty?"

The cave she'd spotted wasn't far, but it looked like he'd have to ascend a good few feet of slippery rocks. The young mage was gazing at him doubtfully, but Varian was damned if he'd be the weak link of their two man expedition.

"I'll be fine," he growled, and she recoiled slightly at his harsh tone. "With some help," he amended, and beckoned her closer.

She bent down and the pair linked their good arms. He wanted to carry Shalamayne, but it proved to be unfeasible with his ruined shoulder, and his other arm needed to use the mage as a makeshift crutch. She staggered slightly as he rested his armoured weight on her, but bore him to his feet well. Evidently, she was somewhat stronger than she looked. Reluctantly, he left Shalamayne behind as they made their ascent, but the mage assured him she would return for it as soon as he was settled in the cave.

The ascent to the cave was a brief but harrowing experience. More than once, their feet had slipped and they'd nearly plunged back into the pool. Varian could barely stand on his shot leg, and in full armour he was a heavy weight for the small mage to carry. But somehow they made it, sweaty and bruised, to the cave's entrance. Varian stood for barely a second before collapsing gracelessly to the floor. His heavy weight pulled the young mage with him, and she ended up awkwardly half pinned beneath his arm.

She managed to wriggle out without too much effort, and made her descent to retrieve Shalamayne. Varian spent a nervous few minutes alone, hoping she'd be able to carry the huge blade up the incline. He was almost about to limp out to look for her, when she appeared in the cave entrance, Shalamayne in tow. She placed it gently against the wall next to him and removed her bandolier, before collapsing to the ground herself.

For a brief moment, they both sat in silence, eyes closed. As the adrenalin from the climb wore off, however, Varian began to feel his injuries more and more. He was particularly concerned about his shoulder.

He must have made a pained noise, for the young mage was now looking at his shoulder, brow furrowed.

"I should have a look at your injuries, Your Majesty," she said tentatively. "We'll have to take your armour off."

"Very well," he agreed, "But I'll need your assistance."

"Alright," she said softly, and quickly got to work.

Removing the armour proved to be something of an ordeal. Although the mage worked quickly, her slender fingers rapidly finding the catches that held the armour to his body, every small jostle was extremely painful. He bit his lip to prevent from crying out, but he could feel the hot sheen of a pained sweat upon his brow. His position also made it extremely awkward. Unable to stand as he was, she had to practically crawl over him to get to some of the straps, and spent a great deal of time half straddling his lap. He tried very hard to ignore the way she flushed brilliant red every time the curve of her hips or thighs brushed against him.

Eventually, the task was done, and his plate lay scattered through the cave around them. With dismay, he noted that his left pauldron had been destroyed, the proud lion's face caved in by the mighty blow of the Gronn. It was a petty thing, he knew, especially when good men had lost their lives today, but felt the loss keenly nonetheless.

He breathed out slowly, trying to control the pain.

"Thank you…" he said, trailing off as he left the question of her name unasked.

"Auriana, Your Majesty," she supplied stiffly.

"Very well. Thank you, Auriana."

"You're welcome, Your Majesty," she said, but the words sounded stilted, without any real feeling behind them.

"I'm afraid that was the easy part," she continued grimly, after a tense pause. "This is going to hurt."

He nodded shortly, and grit his teeth as she prepared to examine his injuries. The shoulder was the worst, he could barely prevent himself from howling in agony as her cool fingers prodded at his shoulder. He could hear her repeatedly muttering apologies under her breath. Thankfully, she moved onto his leg, where she inspected the wound. The respite was only brief, however, as she gently prodded the arrow to see how deeply it was embedded in his leg. He tolerated one or two pokes, before he decided he was rather over the whole situation.

He reached up and forcefully grasped her slim wrist in his hands, and held her off his body.

"I think we're done here, don't you?" he panted.

"Er… yes, Your Majesty," she agreed.

She sat back on her heels, her face carefully schooled into an expression of neutrality. Varian realised he was still grasping her pale wrist, and abruptly dropped it.

"What's the damage?" he asked.

"It's bad," she said bluntly.

Varian barked out a harsh laugh.

"Have you had any medical training at all?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

"Some, Your Majesty," she replied, sounding somewhat offended by the doubtful tone in his voice, "But I've rarely had to apply it." She bit her lip in consternation. "Your shoulder is dislocated. I don't think anything is broken, but it's not in good shape. I think I can fix it, but you're not going to like it."

"Just do what you have to do," he said, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

She didn't smile back, her eyes cold and her expression reluctant.

"Get on with it, mage," he snapped, not in any sort of mood to baby her through the process of what needed to be done.

She sighed, but rose to her feet regardless. She grasped his arm with both hands, and he could see she was readying all the physical strength that she had. A second too late, he realised what she was going to do. He made to stop her, but she had her feet already braced, and a second later, she pulled. Hard.

His shoulder snapped back into place with a loud pop. Varian roared, and everything went black.


	7. Varian

Varian came to sometime later. The last rays of sunlight had disappeared behind the horizon, and night had well and truly fallen on the jungle. He sat up to see the mage sitting on her heels beside his wounded leg. Her face was dimly lit by a flickering campfire burning in the further depths of the cave. Varian grunted in approval - at least she'd had the sense to hide the fire from the entrance to the cave, so it wouldn't be visible to any passing Iron Horde patrols. Further inspection revealed her hands were covered in blood, and dark shadows danced beneath her eyes.

"What happened?" he asked groggily.

"You fainted, Your Majesty," she informed him matter-of-factly. "Somewhat of a blessing in disguise, really. I was able to remove the arrow and stitch your leg while you were out."

Varian looked at the arrow wound in his calf, and was surprised to see a neat, orderly line of stitches. The wound had been washed clean of blood, and looked much better than he would have hoped for. The bloody arrow lay next to her on the floor.

"Where did you learn to stitch wounds?" he asked, genuinely impressed. "I wasn't aware first aid was in the curriculum at Dalaran."

"My father insisted that I learn. He was a real stickler for preparedness," she said shortly, after a pause. She was now wrapping his leg in a bandage.

"Well... thank you, in any case," he said.

"You're welcome, Your Majesty," she murmured, but again, something in her voice told him he wasn't really. It sounded like her lines were rehearsed, like she knew the right thing to say but lacked any emotion behind the thought.

He mused on her detached responses to him as she finished up with his leg, and crawled over to her belt of supplies. She withdrew a set of field rations and a water canteen and offered them to him.

"Here," she said softly. "Eat. You need to regain your strength."

Varian found that he was suddenly ravenously hungry, and wolfed down the tasteless ration cakes.

"Thank you," he said belatedly, through a particularly large mouthful.

Auriana looked on in silence, supremely disdainful.

"I should scout the area," she said finally, after a few long minutes of silence, broken only by Varian's chewing. "I didn't want to leave you alone while you were unconscious, Your Majesty, but I should make sure the area is clear, and attempt to figure out why we were unable to reach Stormshield."

She rose to her feet, and strapped the supply bandolier about her body.

"I won't be long," she said, striding from the cave.

Varian frowned, wishing he were able to patrol with her instead of sitting impotently in a cave. He knew it was for the best, though. While she'd done a good job stitching his leg, and his shoulder was now back in place, he was in no condition to move swiftly or fight.

"Be careful," he called after her, but she was already gone.

Varian expected Auriana back within about an hour, but the young mage failed to reappear. He gave it a while longer, but began to grow more and more concerned.

I would have heard something, he reasoned, but he couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong.

Tired of waiting, Varian limped his way to the edge of the cave, leaning heavily on the cool rock wall, and dragged himself into a sitting position at the edge of the cave mouth.

The moons of Draenor were huge tonight, bathing the clearing in an otherworldly glow. It was one of those full moon nights where everything was nearly as bright as day, and the silver light clearly illuminated Auriana as she stood at the edge of the pool.

From what he could see, she was attempting to cast some kind of spell. She stood with her hands out stretched, and despite the distance between them he could see the strain on her face and the sheen of sweat on her brow. The air faintly warped around her hands, and for a second he thought he could see the outline of a portal, of buildings, before the light vanished and she fell to her knees as if struck.

"Damnit!" he heard her swear, as she buried her face into her hands.

After a few moments, she sat up and balled her hands on her knees, eyes fixed on the rippling dark water before her. Varian wondered if she were going to try to cast the portal again, but instead she slowly reached up and unwound the elaborate knot of her hair. It tumbled in dark waves down over her shoulders. Evidently, she had decided to give up, at least for the moment.

Once her hair was down, she stood and pulled her the battered supply bandolier and mage robes over her head and laid them carefully on the ground. Underneath, she wore a practical, form-fitting leather tunic and serviceable pants. From above, he could see the dark stain of blood still on her arm. She reached down into the water and washed the blood away, frowning. Once her arm was clean, she sat down on the jungle floor and shuffled around in her supplies, pulling out a needle, gut, and bandage. She deftly threaded the needle, and with no hesitation or preamble, she began to stitch up her own arm.

Varian was fairly impressed by her stoicness. She made not a sound as she completed nine careful stitches. Only once she had shakily tied off the gut and bandaged the wound did she make a concession to her pain, and let out a long, barely audible groan. Slowly, she stored the medical supplies.

For a long moment, she didn't move, the water lapping gently at her boots. The moonlight set her pale skin aglow, and strands of starlight danced in her hair. Varian sat silently, unsure why he watched over the woman, but unable to look away.

Eventually, she rose on unsteady feet. He thought she might be about to make her way back up, and made to drag himself back into the cave, strongly suspecting that she would not take kindly to his vigil. He paused, however, as she bent down to remove her boots. Varian was confused, until she reached up with her good arm and began to unlace her leather jerkin and pulled it gingerly over her head. He found himself blushing as she went to strip her trousers, but fortunately she stopped short of complete nakedness, electing to keep her undergarments on.

Varian stared at her, finding himself fascinated. She was entirely different to the noblewomen he had known. Where they were soft curves, plump cheeks, and rounded stomachs, she was hard all over. Her breasts were high and firm, her stomach nothing but hard planes, and her legs and buttocks thick with ropy muscle. She looked fit, powerful, and built for war. But as he looked longer, he noticed that she looked somewhat underfed. Even at this distance, her stomach was a little too flat, her cheekbones a little too sharp, and the lines of her ribs and cheekbones far too clear.

She turned her back to him to carefully place her shed clothes upon her robes, and he let out a quiet gasp as the length of her back was exposed to him. Visible even in the moonlight, a long, white scar traced its way from the back of her neck to disappear below the line of her undergarments. Varian was no stranger to scars himself, and knew this one to be especially vicious. It looked like someone - or something - had ripped her nearly in half. He darkly wondered what her story was.

Heedless of his gaze, Auriana waded into the dark water up to her waist, before plunging silently beneath the water. She disappeared for nearly a minute, before re-emerging on the other side of the pool, her dark hair slick against her pale skin.

She lay back, floating idly, as her hair fanned out around all her. Her eyes were closed, and the moonlight turned her skin silver. It was an oddly whimsical moment, Varian thought, for such a hard woman. For an all too brief second, they both simply existed, out of space and time - Auriana floating in the pool below, while Varian kept his silent guard above.

Their peace was ruined a second later by the sharp crack of a twig and a rustling in the overgrowth. Auriana reacted immediately. She sunk herself deep, so that only her eyes were above the waterline. With her dark hair, she was nearly invisible. Varian's heart thundered in his chest as he waited for whatever lurked in the jungle to emerge. He considered limping back into the cave to retrieve Shalamayne, but decided to wait and see what would happen.

A tense few seconds followed, until the jungle shifted and some kind of bulky quadruped emerged. Varian breathed a deep sigh of relief. Auriana surfaced immediately, shaking her head ruefully at the large animal now drinking from the pool. As she swam back towards the edge of the pool, the animal gazed at her with dull dark eyes. Judging the beast to be mostly harmless, Auriana levered herself out of the pool.

The drinking animal looked at her in alarm, clearly deciding that the mage wasn't harmless, and bade a hasty retreat back into the jungle. Auriana dried herself off using her long robe, and slipped back into her tunic and breeches with little fanfare. As she pulled her boots on, Varian realised he was going to be in a lot of trouble if she came back up to the cave and found that he'd been watching her.

He scrambled back away from the edge, until his palm hit the cave wall. Grunting, he dragged himself to his feet, and managed to hobble his way back to his original position on the floor just as she reappeared outside.

Her eyes narrowed as she took stock of his position, and he wondered if she knew about his brief bout of voyeurism.

"I couldn't see any sign of the Iron Horde, Your Majesty," she said crisply, report style. "We appear to be safe, at least for the time being. That said, I'm still unable to open a portal to Stormshield, nor Zangarra, and I'd rather not risk an unknown portal again, given where we ended up the first time."

Varian nodded. "Very well. I trust your judgement in magical matters. It's fortunate that there are no patrols about, hopefully we will be permitted a night to rest our injuries."

She nodded in agreement as she placed her bloody robes and supplies on the floor next to him.

He pointed at her wet hair, which shone like mahogany in the light of the dying fire.

"Been swimming, I see," he remarked innocently.

"Well, you would know, my Lord," she replied coolly, as she made her way over to attend to the fire, "I believe you had a perfect vantage point from which to observe."

Varian swore.


	8. Varian

Auriana said not another word after catching Varian out in his lie. She had moved to sit by the fire, rekindling it not with flint or tinder, but with a short burst of flames from her own hands. She now sat silently, running her fingers through her long hair to comb out the tangles.

It was astounding, Varian thought, how much iciness she radiated, despite being seated next to an open flame.

"Would you care to explain what happened with the portal? Why did we end up in a pond in Tanaan?" he tried, hoping to break her silence.

She cocked her head to the side, and he wondered if she would continue to ignore him.

"Do you know anything of magical theory?" she asked finally, turning to face him.

"Jaina Proudmoore tried to explain some to me once," he said truthfully. "But it never stuck."

She didn't look surprised.

"Very well. Our world - all worlds - are undercut by a network of ley lines. They are extremely powerful, and can be drawn upon to cast some of our more spectacular spells. Where a series of ley lines converge, it is known as a ley nexus."

"There's one under Karazhan," Varian remembered suddenly.

"Yes…" she said slowly, looking genuinely, though reluctantly, impressed. "How did you know that?"

"Khadgar mentioned it once," he replied smugly.

He saw that she came very, very close to rolling her eyes at him, but with a masterful demonstration of self-control, her face remained neutral.

"In any case… you are correct, all the ley lines on Azeroth lead to a place under Karazhan, from which the Guardian Medivh drew much of his considerable power. Ley lines and nexus have many uses, but one of the most important uses of the ley network is in the creation of portals," she continued. "The ley network provides something of a map between places in Azeroth, or Draenor, or whatever world you happen to be on at the time. Are you with me so far?"

How dull does she think I am? he thought, but he nodded nonetheless.

"When a mage casts a portal, they tap into the ley network and use to orient themselves in the world, and ensure that the portal opens where intended. We also use the power of the network to ensure everyone arrives in the same physical order in which they left."

"What?" Varian interrupted, alarmed. "Are you saying that I could step through a portal and come out the other side with one of my legs missing, or something?"

"A poorly cast portal can be very problematic," she confirmed, "Though… rearrangements… are not very common. A more likely result of a bad cast is that you reappear inside a mountain, or at the bottom of the sea."

"Oh, well, that's much better," he said.

"Portals are very difficult," she continued, ignoring his sarcasm. "It takes significant amounts of concentration, practice, and ability to cast portals successfully, hence why most mages can only teleport to well-known points in the ley network, such as Stormwind. In general, to learn a portal you must have already been to the place you wish to go, and it usually requires guidance from an elder mage who already knows the spell. Very powerful mages, like Khadgar or Jaina, can often improvise portals and cast to places they've never been, simply because they are highly skilled at instantly reading the ley network. Khadgar is especially gifted in this area."

"So how did we end up here?"

She frowned. "I'm not yet skilled at casting portals in Draenor. I can only hit Stormshield with any sort of regularity. I tried to get us to Shadowmoon, but my knowledge of the network is insufficient, and as I said earlier, I missed. To be honest, I'm just glad we ended up in one piece. Trying to cast a portal with unfamiliar ley lines is like trying to shoot an arrow at a target while blindfolded and standing on one leg."

"Why didn't you take us back to Stormwind then, in our own time? After all, you've been there before."

She cocked her head, and he could tell she was somewhat impressed that he'd thought of the question.

"Casting a portal through time as well as space adds an extra layer of difficulty - and potential consequences. Not only do you have the usual problems of trying to ensure you end up in the right place, you also have to make sure we end up in the right time. Even if I managed to get us to Stormwind, we might find ourselves back in the First War, or twenty years into the future, or pretty much anywhere along the timeline in Azeroth Prime. I wasn't particularly keen on ending up in the War of the Ancients."

"Agreed," he said, taking her point. There were plenty of points in time he never wished to revisit.

"When Khadgar cast the initial portal back to Stormwind from Draenor, he carried a dimensional anchor to help him cast the spell," she continued. "It essentially gave him something to aim for. I had no such anchor, and I've not yet learned to cast the Stormwind portal unaided. I'm improving, but it isn't a portal I can yet cast by myself, let alone under pressure, in combat, with a Gronn about to cave my head in."

It was a painful admission, he saw. This was not a woman who easily tolerated failure. That said, after her explanation, he wasn't sure how anyone opened portals successfully and safely with any kind of consistency.

She caught his somewhat slack-jawed stare and her brow furrowed.

"What?" she asked.

"Just thinking that I'm very glad I'm a warrior," he replied, a small, wry smile upon his lips.

For a second he thought he'd cracked through her frosty exterior. Her mouth twitched, ever so slightly, before she reasserted her perfect emotionless visage. He shook his head.

"Remind me never to play cards with you," he said.

"Excuse me?" she said archly, the slightest bit of venom entering her voice.

"You've got one hell of a deadpan face," he replied.

"Maybe you just aren't as funny as you think," she snapped, before adding a bitter, belated, "Your Majesty."

Varian leaned back into the wall, frowning. She was trying very hard not to look at him, and busied herself with checking the bandaging on his leg.

"You don't like me, do you?" he said finally.

For a second he thought she might lie, as people so often did when facing their King, but to his considerable surprise, she sat back and regarded him seriously.

"No," she said softly.

"And yet you saved my life," he observed.

"Yes," she replied, her blue eyes huge.

"Why?"

"I did my duty. I'm loyal to Stormwind, to the Alliance," she said, and her unspoken 'not to you' echoed between them.

"So you saved the life of a man you despise, out of your loyalty to Stormwind."

"I don't despise you," she said, but her eyes told a different story.

"Don't lie to me," he said quietly, but there was now a hard edge to his voice. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to get along with, and she was perfectly within her rights to have an opinion about his political leadership, but he wasn't going to trust her with his life without knowing what her problem was.

For a second it looked as if she were going to maintain her frosty silence, but to his genuine surprise, something behind her eyes snapped, and she unleashed a torrent of rage upon him.

"Fine!" she snarled, and for the first time her face flushed full with emotion. "As you wish, my Lord. I despise everything about you. Your arrogance, and... and your cowardice..."

Varian bristled. He knew he was a hothead, Light knew he'd heard it enough from Anduin, but no one had ever called him a coward.

"When have I ever shown cowardice?" he challenged her heatedly.

"You could have stopped them all!" she yelled, her voice breaking. "I was there! I was there, when we laid siege to Orgrimmar. Your courage failed you that day, my King! You could have killed them all, all the Horde, and Garrosh too! We fought the Scourge for you, we froze and fought in that cold hell and died in numbers too numerous to count! We bled for you against Deathwing, we broke ourselves upon his body! We fought the mantid, and the mogu, and the sha, and when you had the chance to avenge us against the Horde, to slaughter that monster Garrosh, you betrayed us! You walked away. Your actions that day condemned us to this siege in Draenor. You are a terrible king."

She was openly yelling at him, and Varian was now very concerned that she would draw attention to their hiding place. He leaned forward and grabbed her with his good hand. Slight as she was, even one hand was enough to pull her forwards. Surprised by his sudden movement, she was unable to resist, and tumbled into him. He pulled her roughly into a sitting position and clamped a hand over her mouth. Up close, he could see tears of rage burning in her eyes.

"Quiet," he growled. She made to resist and shout at him more, but he cut her off. "Not for me. The Iron Horde."

She stared at him for a moment, fury burned into every line of her face, but she eventually nodded, and some of the tension left her body. If nothing else, she seemed eminently practical. He released her.

"You can berate me all you like, but do it quietly," he ordered.

She scooted away from him again and hugged her knees to her chest. She stared at him silently, her sudden rage burned out as quickly as it had been kindled.

"What happened to you?" he asked. "You sound like Jai... oh," he realised belatedly. "You knew someone in Theramore."

She closed her eyes in pain. The soft firelight cast strange, dancing shadows on her face. She might have been beautiful, he thought, if not for her face of stone and eyes that were far too old.

"Who was it?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

"It does to me," he insisted. He knew he was generally unskilled in emotional comfort, but he did care, and he hoped she could see his sincerity.

"Does it? You didn't seem to care at Orgrimmar. You didn't seem to care today, when you brought us all through to this hellish jungle on nothing more than a whim. We're nothing to you," she said bitterly, and he could see she really, honestly believed that the lives of Alliance soldiers meant nothing to him.

"That's not true," he stammered. "That's not true! I am not a perfect King, by any means… but don't you dare suggest that Alliance lives are meaningless to me. Don't you dare."

His quiet voice was fierce, angry. Her words had stung, not least because they had held a ring of truth. They had come here today only because he had ordered it, all because he had wanted to measure himself against the Iron Horde. A long, painful silence stretched between them, and despite the fire he suddenly felt very cold.

"Who was it?" he tried again.

"My parents," she said finally. "My mother was a n… a jewelcrafter. She fled to Theramore with Lady Proudmoore before the fall of Lordaeron. My father served as a Captain in Lady Proudmoore's guard. And... there was a man."

"A man you loved?"

"I might have," she said distantly. "We didn't really... we never... got the chance."

"I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it. "I know... I know what it's like to lose the people you love."

He stared at his feet, suddenly awkward.

"That's what I don't understand," she said. "You've lost more to the Horde than almost anyone. And when you had them at your mercy, you did nothing. Why?"

Her gaze was intense, heated. He could see that she desperately wanted an answer, an answer he wasn't sure he even had.

"I... because I finally understood what Jaina and Anduin have been trying to tell me for years. Thrall... Vol'Jin... Baine... the Horde... for all their faults, they aren't the real enemy. Anger, revenge... these things will only tear Azeroth apart, and make us easy prey for greater foes. I have no love for the Horde, and nor do I trust them, but I will not seek to destroy them unless they force my hand."

"So you just... let it go? I can't believe that. After your father? After Theramore? After what happened to Anduin at the Divine Bell? After Tiffin?"

Hearing her name so suddenly and unexpectedly was like a slap in the face. Varian could take the criticism of his decision at Orgrimmar, he could even take accusations of callousness and indifference to the lives of Alliance men, but this was one topic he refused to discuss.

"Don't you ever mention her name to me," he snarled, and for the first time Auriana looked afraid of his ire. Wisely, she didn't push the issue.

"Revenge won't bring back the dead," he said eventually, forcing himself to remain calm. "Fury is a useful weapon, but only when tempered by wisdom. I... I took a long time to learn that lesson, and it has cost me dearly. I don't think l will ever be free of my anger, but I am determined to make it work for me, not against me."

As he gazed at her, for a second he saw a reflection of himself, before he had learned to control the wolf within, and his heart ached for her. He understood then that they were alike. They'd both seen too much, had both hurt too much. Luckily, Varian had people like Anduin, and Jaina, and lately Genn Greymane, to tame his wild and furious heart. This woman, apparently, had no one left.

"You have much more to offer this world than your rage," he told her softly.

Hot tears were streaming silently down her face now, and she turned away, embarrassed. All the fight seemed to have gone out of her, leaving only a void of misery. Awkwardly, she dragged herself to her feet.

"You should... you should get some sleep, Your Majesty. I'll set up some wards, and take watch."

As she stumbled her way towards the entrance of the cave, a thought occurred to Varian.

"You volunteered to come through the portal with Khadgar because you thought it was a suicide mission," he realised.

She paused, and Varian knew he'd struck a nerve.

"And yet you survived. You fought," he continued, trying to offer her some kind of hope. She didn't move. Tension was written in every line of her body, silhouetted against the night by the dying fire.

 _Light, I'm bad at this_ , he thought.

"You didn't get yourself killed," he tried again.

"Not yet," she said darkly, and she stepped out of the cave into the heated jungle night.


	9. Varian

At some point after she'd left, Varian had fallen into a deep but troubled sleep. He'd tried to wait up, to see when Auriana came back to the cave, but his injuries finally took their toll, and he lost consciousness. When he finally awoke, the cave was bathed with soft morning light. The fire had burned out during the night, and Auriana was nowhere to be seen.

Mustering his strength, Varian dragged himself to the cave entrance. From his limited vantage point, he couldn't see very much. She wasn't anywhere near the pool. Admittedly, she could have been anywhere close by, and he still might not have seen her in the dense jungle. The fact that she hadn't returned concerned him immensely, given their heated discussion during the night. Her dark and troubled nature had concerned him greatly, and he desperately hoped she hadn't done something stupid.

He began to look around for a makeshift crutch to climb down and find her, when he spotted her emerge from the jungle and slowly climb up towards the cave.

She looked awful. The injury to her throat had bruised badly, and three thick purple lines marred her alabaster skin. The shadows underneath her eyes were so dark it looked like she'd been punched.

"I can't see any Horde in the immediate area, Your Majesty," she croaked, her voice strained. "I established a few wards around the perimeter. We should be alerted if any orcs cross into this section of the jungle."

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked incredulously.

She was swaying lightly where she should, and he couldn't believe she was still on her feet.

"No," she said quietly. "I couldn't risk it. It's my duty to keep you safe."

"Part of your duty is keeping yourself strong enough for the task. Come rest," he ordered, beckoning her over towards him. She shifted her weight reluctantly, even though she looked barely able to stand.

Varian sighed. "Must you defy me in all things?" he asked, exasperated. He wasn't used to having people resist his commands, except for perhaps Anduin, and it was decidedly annoying.

For a second she looked as if she were going to argue with him, but she had no energy left with which to fight. She walked over, and fairly collapsed in a heap next to him. She rested her head back against the wall and closed her eyes and groaned softly in pain.

"How are your injuries?" he asked, clumsily seating himself next to her.

''It hurts to breathe, a little," she said quietly, her eyes still closed. ''My arm is sore, but functional. How is your shoulder?"

"I didn't know you cared," he said, and instantly regretted it. For all she'd unloaded her anger and pain on him last night, she didn't deserve his pettiness. He sighed. "It's definitely not functional. If we're ambushed, I won't be much use in a fight."

Thankfully, she ignored his first remark and decided to focus on the second. "I tried to open the portal again. Whatever is wrong on the other end, Khadgar still hasn't fixed it. We're stuck."

"Give it time. Khadgar won't let us down. I'm certain he's working on the problem as we speak," Varian said, more optimistically than he truly felt.

"Or he's dead," Auriana said, giving a dark voice to his real thoughts. "Either way, we have to get out of here soon."

"Agreed," he said. "But right now, you need to sleep. If it comes to a fight, you might need to fight for both of us, given my injuries."

She nodded, her eyes still closed as she struggled to find a comfortable position. She very pointedly avoiding making physical contact with him. Varian rolled his eyes, and opened his good arm to her.

"C'mere," he murmured.

He supposed his unexpectedly kind gesture had shocked her somewhat, almost as much as it had shocked him, because she was now staring up at him, eyes huge.

"I'm not asking for your hand in marriage, woman," he growled, "A shoulder is a hell of a lot more comfortable than a cave wall, even if that shoulder does belong to me."

She considered him silently and very seriously. Varian braced himself for an argument, but she never said a word as she slowly leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder with a weary sigh. He could feel the tension in her body, but she slowly began to relax as she drifted toward sleep. Sooner than Varian expected, her breathing became slow and regular, as she surrendered to her exhaustion.

Varian studied her carefully. She was much prettier when she slept, her face much more peaceful. She lost her cold intensity, and looked far more like a bright young woman than a tormented, world-weary soldier. He vaguely wondered how old she was. She had mentioned serving in the Northrend campaign, but looked a shade too young to have gone through the Dark Portal into Outland, so he guessed she was in her mid-twenties.

He sighed. Is this what the reward for serving the Alliance was? Hatred and depression? It was sad, he mused, to see someone so hard, so young.

Like you were, said a small voice inside him.

As they always did when he was feeling reflective, his thoughts drifted to Tiffin. He wondered what she'd think of him right now, with another woman curled up against his side. She hadn't ever been the jealous type. Tiffin may have been a quiet, gentle woman, but she had been utterly confident in herself and secure in her own skin. If she were here right now, she would've smiled softly at his current predicament, placed a gentle hand on his arm, and spoken the quiet words of comfort that made him feel invincible.

Deep in his reverie, her soft voice floated back to him. He could still remember its exact timbre, even after all these years.

It will all work out, my darling, she might have said. You are brave, and clever, and most importantly, you are loved.

Varian sighed. It had been a long time since he'd felt anything close to love. Sadly, having a young woman who hated him sleep in his arms while the Iron Horde hunted him down was the closest he'd come to actual human affection in recent memory.

"Which is… incredibly depressing," he mused out loud.

As if in answer, a lonely axebeak cawed somewhere in the distance.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He normally didn't have the time to engage in such introspection, though this was somewhat deliberate. Varian knew he was prone to bouts of melancholy if left to his own dark memories, particularly where his fallen Queen was concerned. Somewhat fortuitously, Auriana chose that moment to move abruptly, breaking him out of his dark musings.

Her brow furrowed, even in her sleep, and she shifted restlessly. She murmured something that he didn't catch, possibly a name. Varian wondered if it was the name of the man she'd lost when Theramore fell.

He wasn't sure which was worse - losing someone you loved, as he had lost Tiffin, or losing someone you'd never had the chance to love. He at least had memories - Tiffin's songbird laugh, her radiant smile, the feeling of her naked skin beneath his hands. Auriana had nothing but regrets. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that memories were far superior to thoughts of what might have been. Despite how everything had turned out, he wouldn't trade his time with Tiffin for anything.

The young mage shifted again. She certainly was a restless sleeper, though given their current situation he supposed he couldn't blame her.

"Sleep," he ordered softly, as he drew her in closer.

Her movement stilled, and Varian lost himself in thoughts of better days.


	10. Auriana

Auriana awoke sometime in the late afternoon. She swore silently. She hadn't meant to sleep so long. Every second they spent here meant another chance that they would be discovered. She might not like Varian Wrynn, but she would damn well do her duty and keep him safe, no matter the cost.

Although... if she were being honest with herself, she had to admit he had surprised her. He was cooler and cleverer than she had expected. Only a fool would be unable to see the wolf that lurked just behind his eyes, but evidently he had it well under control. She had also seen that he had understood her anger, had felt it himself, but had grown to understand that fear and fury were not the hallmarks of a great king. Far from being a pigheaded, arrogant warmonger, he had seemed more a confident and considered man with great emotional depth, even if he did have a temper and a stubborn streak a mile wide.

You were unfair on him, she admitted to herself.

In all her blind grief, she had latched on to Wrynn as a target for her rage, had hated him for his refusal to slake her lust for vengeance. She had felt betrayed by his refusal to pay for one crime with another. Her cooler mind realised this, just as her turbulent heart still seethed.

How did he do it? she wondered.

He had lost as much as she had, more even, and yet he was the one counselling intelligence and restraint. She suddenly felt embarrassed. Last night he had acted like wise ruler, and she a petulant child.

So lost was she in her waking thoughts, Auriana forgot that she was lying on the king until she felt his weight move beneath her. Furious with herself, she scrambled away from him and carefully arranged her features into a mask of control. Control had been her shield from the world for a long time now, and she absolutely hated to lose it. She had trained it into herself so carefully, and she would be damned if Varian Wrynn would be the one to break down her barriers.

"Apologies, my Lord," she mumbled hurriedly.

"For kicking me as you woke up, or the snoring?"

"I... both, I suppose," she stammered, flustered. "Your Majesty."

Wynn's face was carefully neutral, but she could tell he was enjoying her consternation. She glowered.

"Did anything happen while I was asleep?" she asked.

"No. I didn't hear anything out there. I think we're safe for now."

"You let me sleep too long," she said sternly, clambering to her feet.

Her muscles ached, and her wounded arm throbbed dully. The bruises at her throat made it feel like she was still being strangled by the thick grasp of an orc. She shivered.

"You look liked you needed the rest, and we were in no immediate danger," Varian said defensively.

She frowned at him. "We need to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Can't wait to get away from me, then," he said, and she was surprised to hear a note of genuine hurt in his voice.

Auriana turned away, rubbing a weary hand across her eyes.

"I should scout the area again, Your Majesty," she said, abruptly changing the topic. She wasn't quite ready to apologise to him, though she knew she probably should.

"Good idea," he agreed. "Before you leave, however... help me stand. I'm starting to stiffen up."

She walked over to him and allowed him to sling his good arm over her shoulders, so that he could gather his legs beneath him. Varian Wrynn was an absolutely enormous man, especially up this close. Auriana suspected that his arms were as big around as one of her thighs. She thanked the Light that years of fighting had made her small body much stronger than it looked, otherwise she might never have been able to lift him.

Wrynn now stood, half leaning against the cave wall.

"How is your leg?" she asked.

He tested in gingerly, placing as much of his weight on it as he could.

"It isn't pretty, but I could move if I needed to," he said. "I…"

"Shut up," she snapped suddenly.

She had felt the familiar tingle in the back of her mind as something out in the jungle moved through one of her wards. She had placed them last night, and had carefully spelled them to ignore the movements of various jungle birds and beasts. The fact that they had been tripped meant only one thing - the Iron Horde was coming.

Wrynn was staring at her, thoroughly confused.

"You asked…" he started angrily.

She clamped a hand over his mouth.

"There's Horde out there," she hissed.

To her relief, his eyes widened and he stopped trying to speak. She stepped away from him and pointed to the back of the cave.

"Hide," she whispered.

He complied without hesitation, limping quickly into the darkness. Auriana dashed for their supplies and the ruins of Wrynn's plate, and gathered as much in her arms as she could. Everything was placed too close to the cave entrance. If one of the patrols came too close, they might spot the gleam of metal and come to investigate.

It took her several trips, but she managed to shuttle all of Wrynn's discarded plate to the back of the cave. Last of all she bought Shalamayne, which he accepted gratefully in his good hand. His eyes were focused, serious, and he remained standing despite his obvious discomfort.

She felt a second tingle as another of her wards was breached, closer in this time.

"Damnit," she swore quietly.

"Close?" Wrynn whispered back, not wasting words.

"Yes."

"How?"

"Wards," she replied, catching his meaning. "Set last night."

"Do you know where they are? How many?"

"Yes, and no," she said

She knew the approximate position of any Iron Horde out there based on which wards they'd hit, but had no idea of how many enemies might be bearing down on them even now.

"I'll have to scout," she decided.

Even in the near darkness, she could see Wrynn's disapproval. He shook his head.

"Too dangerous," he protested.

"No choice," she retorted. "We need to know."

He radiated disapproval, but gave her no reply. She went move away, but stopped as he clamped an iron grip on her arm.

"Careful," he said finally, and she was surprised at the concern in his eyes.

She nodded tightly as he released her arm.

"Always," she replied.

Heart pounding, she turned and made her way towards the bright afternoon light, and the Iron Horde that awaited her.

Auriana made her way quickly into the jungle, racing from the relatively exposed cave mouth into the thick foliage, where she would be much better camouflaged. She thought about summoning her water elemental, but decided it would be too easy to spot. Instead, she gathered almost all of her magical power to her, and held a powerful frost spell on the tips of her fingers. If the Iron Horde wanted a fight, she was more than prepared to oblige them.

The last ward tripped had been about half a mile to the south, so she headed in that direction. Moving silently through the jungle was hard work, but she was well accustomed to operating in rough terrain. She'd made it about a quarter mile when she heard the unmistakable sound of something large heading in her direction, and she dived into the undergrowth beneath a large tree.

A small patrol of four orcs walked into view. They were conversing loudly in their own guttural language, clearly unafraid of anything they might encounter in the jungle. Given their vicious looking axes, Auriana couldn't say she blamed them. Fortunately, none of them appeared to be magic users, which meant that her wards had likely remained undiscovered even as the patrol marched through them. From what she could see, they also seemed to be nothing more than an average patrol, rather than a hunting party specifically tasked with finding Wrynn.

The orcs continued on into the jungle, oblivious to her presence, and were quickly swallowed up by the endless green. Unfortunately, they were heading north, towards the cave where Wrynn was concealed, but they were moving fairly slowly. Auriana was small and fast, and she guessed she'd have the advantage moving through the jungle.

As the sound of orc conversation faded away, Auriana decided it was finally safe to move. She rose cautiously from her position, and breathed a sigh of relief as no orc axe swing came to greet her. She took off like a shot into the jungle, determined to beat the orcs back to the cave. Auriana could hear them moving in the distance just ahead of her, and carefully flanked to their right. Once she was ahead of them, she would take off and make her way to the cave ahead of them. With any luck, the orcs would walk right past their hiding place, and she and Wrynn would be temporarily safe.

Sweat poured down Auriana's face as she exerted herself, the wounds at her throat making it hard to breathe. It was difficult moving at speed through the dense jungle while listening out for any sounds of the orc patrol, but she moved as quickly as she dared. From what she could tell, the orcs were somewhere behind her now, so she prepared to change directions and cut back across their path towards the cave. She put on a last burst of speed to put the orcs as far behind her as possible, and readied herself for the final charge up the hill. If she had calculated correctly, and she was confident she had, she was far enough ahead of the patrol to slip past them unnoticed.

So intent was she on her final goal that she didn't notice the group of three axebeaks until she'd ploughed straight into them. Two of them took off with a cacophony of angry squawks. The third bird she hit straight on, sending them both tumbling across the jungle floor in a ball of limbs and feathers. Behind her, she heard the orcs start shouting and moving towards her position, alerted by the ceaseless cawing of the flustered axebeaks.

"Stupid birds!" she hissed, scrambling to get back on her feet.

She looked back through the jungle, and her eyes locked with those of a dark-skinned orc.

Just my luck, she thought, as he snarled a war cry to his companions and charged towards her.

Not wanting to lead the orcs to Wrynn, she threw herself to the left as a storm of icicles flew from her fingertips. The orc who had first sighted her was thrown back against a nearby tree, impaled by the sharp ice. The other three orcs still charged towards her, unphased by the death of the orc who had sounded the alarm.

As Auriana ran, she heard a strange whistling noise behind her. She threw herself to the ground just in time to see an axe go flying over her head and imbed itself six inches deep in the tree behind her. Had her reflexes been a second slower, it would have cleaved her head clean off. She swallowed nervously.

Auriana scrambled to her feet and kept running, shooting wild ice lances behind her as she did. There was no time to aim, she simply hoped that the barrage of ice would be enough to slow them down. The dense jungle bit and tore at her exposed skin, and soon she was covered in vicious scratches.

She saw a pile of mossy boulders perched on an outcrop ahead of her, and a plan began to form in her mind. She slowed her pace ever so slightly, allowing the three orcs to close on her. As she sprinted past the boulders, she spun and threw a perfectly placed frostbolt. It slammed into the precariously balanced boulders and sent them tumbling towards the orcs.

The first orc had no time to react, his head splitting open as a boulder ploughed through him. The second and third orcs tried to backpedal, but vanished behind a wall of rock.

Auriana waited to see whether any of them emerged. She was breathing heavily, but was ready to blast any orc that showed his face from under the rockslide. She gave it a few minutes, but no-one emerged from beneath the rocks to challenge her. Satisfied that all the orcs were dead, she gingerly made her way back to Wrynn's hiding place.

She crept stealthily up into the cave entrance, keeping a watchful eye out for any more orcs.

"Auriana?" she heard Wrynn's voice call out from the darkness.

She heard the soft scrape of metal against rock, and realised that he had prepared his sword.

"It's me," she identified herself quickly, not wanting to find herself on the business end of Shalamayne.

Wrynn sighed with relief, and limped forward out of the darkness.

"Well?" he asked.

"We have a problem. I encountered a patrol of four orcs. I was nearly able to sneak past them, but I ran into a nest of bloody axebeaks. The orcs made my position," she admitted.

"Where are they now?"

Surprisingly, he made no comment on her error, for which she was very grateful.

"Dead," she told him, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "I had no choice. They didn't seem to be hunting for us specifically…"

"... but they will be now," Wrynn finished grimly.

"Precisely," she agreed. "Which means we don't have much time."

She looked out of the cave. The soft blue glow of twilight was rapidly descending on the jungle.

"It will be nightfall soon. Whoever's out there will take some time to realise the patrol is missing. I doubt that they will send a party out into the jungle at night, against a force of unknown strength."

"We are only two people," Wrynn pointed out.

"Well, they don't know that… at least, I'm fairly sure. I don't believe the orcs I killed had time to sound an alert."

Wrynn nodded. "In that case, I think we can safely assume we have until dawn before we might encounter more enemies. Are you able to create a portal?"

"I can try."

Auriana closed her eyes and reached out for Stormshield. It was within her grasp, but every time she tried to solidify the connection it slipped away. The magic blocking her felt curious, unfamiliar. It almost seemed as if Stormshield were in the wrong place, which was of course utterly ridiculous. Gritting her teeth, she poured more energy into the spell, drawing on more magic than she'd ever used in her life. Her head pounded, and the cave walls actually began to shake under the sheer power of the spell, but it was all to no avail. The spell slipped, and crumbled into nothing.

She cried out in frustration and pain as her power left her, and narrowly resisted the urge to throw a punch into the cave wall.

"I take it Stormshield is still…" Wrynn started, but cut off abruptly and pointed at her face. "Are you alright?"

She cocked her head to the side, confused. He mimed touching his nose. Mimicking his action, she raised a hand to her own nose, and was surprised when it came away covered in blood. Sighing, she wiped it clean with the back of her hand.

"I'm fine," she told him. "I just overdid it somewhat. Magic is not without its costs."

"As long as you're sure," Wrynn said skeptically. "Bleeding like that isn't generally a good sign."

"I promise," she said firmly. She didn't want his pity.

Wrynn nodded, somewhat mollified, though he was still studying her intently for any further sign of weakness.

"If we're unable to get to Stormshield, we will need to prepare a defense," she continued. "We can't stop them coming for us, but I'll be damned if I'll give them an easy time of it."

"Well now, that's an idea I can get behind," Wrynn said wolfishly. "What did you have in mind?"


	11. Varian

Varian and Auriana worked all through the night, turning the jungle into a veritable nightmare of concealed traps. It was tiring, sweaty work, but neither of them dared pause, knowing the Iron Horde could be upon them at any moment.

Hampered as he was by his injuries, Varian couldn't create anything elaborate, but he was able to set up a number of small spike traps and trip wires, as well as a palisade on the path leading up to the cave. Auriana worked further out, laying all sorts of magical contrivances throughout the jungle. As he worked, he caught occasional glimpses of her flitting through the trees. She fully reappeared just before sun up, and jogged back to his position at the side of the pool.

"Ready?" she asked him.

"I've laid spikes traps at three yard intervals from the tree line. You can see the palisade for yourself, and there are a number of trip wires spread through the trees."

"I know," she said ruefully, "I nearly fell over one coming back. They're well hidden."

"What about you?"

"I set up a one mile ward perimeter around this area, so we'll have a good idea of what's coming. I've placed a number of frost traps that will freeze any enemy that stands on them… and I have an idea for the pool."

She summoned two water elementals with a wave of her hands, and together they channelled streams of ice at the little pool. Slowly, it began to freeze over, until there was no moving water left.

"Help me drag some leaves across the pool," she instructed. "If they run over it, I can collapse it from above and dunk them."

"Good idea," Varian said, limping to help her as best he could.

Varian, Auriana and the water elementals moved quickly, shuttling big armfuls of leaves and jungle debris across the pool until it was mostly concealed. It wouldn't stand up to close scrutiny, but with any luck the orcs would charge onto the ice before they realised.

Auriana nodded, satisfied.

"That should slow them down. With any luck..."

She was cut off as they heard the distinctive cry of an orcish hunting horn in the distance. Auriana whirled to face Varian, her eyes wide.

"We need to get to the cave, now," she said urgently. "No time for limping."

She slung his good arm over her shoulders, and together they made quick time up to the shelter of the cave mouth. Their vantage point gave them the protection of the rock overhang, but they could still see out clearly into the jungle.

"They just breached my wards," Auriana said. "They'll start to hit the trap line soon."

She looked intense, focused, and dangerous, like a hunting dog poised to attack, and she was fairly shaking with adrenaline.

Barely a minute later, her words rang true as a series of painful cries went up from the jungle.

"That would be the frost traps," she said viciously, obviously very pleased with herself.

They heard more screams of pain, until the first orc appeared from the jungle. He strode calmly forwards, a massive war hammer slung casually over one of his equally enormous shoulders.

"Welcome to Tanaan, King of the Alliance!" he yelled up at them. "You've given my men a bit of trouble this morning, but have no fear, we'll soon equal the score. My name is Borak Crushfist, and I promise I will be the last thing you'll ever see."

He waved his hand lazily, and a wave of orcs stepped out of the tree line.

"Stay hidden," Auriana whispered to Varian, as she strode fearlessly out onto the ledge.

She gazed down at Crushfist with utter contempt.

"If you want him, you'll have to go through me," she snarled.

"My pleasure, little girl," Crushfist snarled. "This should be easy."

"We'll see," she said nonchalantly, her fingers glittering with frost.

The orcs charged.

A large number of them fell instantly to the concealed traps, impaling themselves on the spikes or tumbling to the trip wires. The rest were exposed, and were easy prey for the frost mage. Auriana fought like a wild animal, her eyes wild and alive with a fierce kind of joy, and Varian wondered if she had a touch of the berserk in her. Ice poured ceaselessly from her fingers, taking down orc after orc as they tried to charge the hill. Her two water elementals aided her bravely, blasting orcs out of the way with powerful jets of water.

Finding it difficult to circumvent her assault, a large group of orcs threw themselves forward onto the concealed pool, hoping to avoid the palisade by climbing up the pool wall. With a quick wave of her hand, Auriana collapsed the ice. There was a massive cracking sound, and at least a dozen orcs went tumbling into the pool.

Varian fidgeted as he watched, feeling impotent, but there wasn't much he could do without charging down the hill into the melee. Given his current state of injury and exhaustion, he knew that was a very bad idea, but he itched to throw himself into the fight.

If only I had a bow, he thought grimly.

The leader of the orcs, Crushfist, had stayed back, watching the spectacle with a savage grin. He apparently wasn't keen to join the fight until Auriana had exhausted herself. Privately, Varian felt this was likely to happen soon. While not a magic user himself, he had fought alongside enough mages to notice the signs. Her casting speed had slowed significantly as the battle wore on, and there was a slight slump to her shoulders.

"This is a waste of energy," Auriana called back to him, as if reading his mind. "I can't hold them forever like this, there are too many. It's time to try something different."

"What are you going to do?" he asked her.

"Something I saw Khadgar do once. Once it goes off… if it goes off… prepare to run," she said. "As fast as you can."

"What do you mean, if?" he called back.

"Well, I suspect that this will either save our lives, or kill every living thing in a mile radius," she explained with a savage grin.

Varian swallowed nervously.

He watched as Auriana took a deep breath to calm herself. She reached her hands out, and an orb of icy power gradually coalesced in the air. Once it stabilised, rotating slowly in front of her, she added a ball of purple arcane mage, and finally a ball of pure fire. Her breathing was laboured, and he wondered if she might lose the spell.

The pause in her casting had also allowed the orcs to gain ground, and they were ripping apart Varian's palisade to create room for their assault. A single orc had made it up the hill, and charged for Auriana. Distracted as she was by the spell, she hadn't seen him. Seizing the element of surprise, Varian threw himself forward and drove Shalamayne deep into the orc's chest. He dropped to the ground in a heap, dead. Auriana, for her part, didn't even notice the dead orc slumped at her feet as she continued to pour more power into her spell.

"So the King shows himself!" Crushfist yelled up at them as he caught sight of Varian.

His voice rang with savage pleasure as he hefted the hammer from his shoulder, finally willing to join the fight now that his primary target was revealed.

"I'm coming for you," the big orc said, pointing his hammer at the point squarely between Varian's eyes as he started forward.

"Not today," Auriana growled, and released her spell.

The three summoned orbs coalesced into one chaotic ball of energy, and blasted across the jungle. Auriana stumbled to her knees as the spell left her, utterly spent. Varian saw Crushfist's eyes widen as he dove to the ground to avoid the shock wave. Other orcs were not so quick, and were hit by the full strength of the magical burst. He saw at least a dozen orcs crumple, but had no interest in watching the aftermath of the spell. Remembering Auriana's earlier instructions, he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her down the hill into the jungle. She was somewhat disoriented, but followed him willingly, picking up the pace as they went.

As they hit the tree line, he noticed Auriana's nose was bleeding again, and there was even a small trickle of blood seeping from her left ear.

"That was some spell!" he told her in between breaths.

"I've never tried that before," she said vaguely, panting. "It took more out of me than I would have thought."

Varian heard the sound of orcs in the jungle behind them, and forced himself to pick up the pace. With every step, pain shot through his injured leg like fire, but he didn't dare slow down as they bolted through the jungle.

They had made it a decent way into the jungle when Varian caught a rapid movement out of the corner of his eye, and threw himself to the side just as a slab-faced orc jumped out at them. Shalamayne tumbled from his hands to land on the jungle floor a few feet away.

Dazed as she was, Auriana didn't react fast enough, and the orc tackled her to the ground. Varian scrambled forward on his stomach, struggling to reach Shalamayne. His hand closed over the familiar hilt just as he saw the ambushing orc yank Auriana to her feet and throw her into a tree. Her skull hit the wood with a nasty crack, and she cried out in pain. Her head lolled to one side, and he could see her fighting to keep her eyes open.

The orc raised a fist, ready to pummel her face in, as Varian dragged himself to his feet. With a savage cry, he threw himself at the orc. Shalamayne neatly bisected the brute's back, sending him tumbling away from Auriana to the ground.

"Don't you ever touch her," he growled, his blood running hot.

The orc twitched once, and lay still.

Varian looked up at Auriana. She was breathing heavily, but appeared to be relatively uninjured. She was also looking at him very intently, almost as if she were seeing him for the first time.

"You saved me," she said quietly, disbelief all through her voice. "You didn't have to do that."

"You saved my life, this isn't any different," he pointed out.

"I'm honour bound… you're my King. You could have run. You aren't… you didn't…"

She swallowed, as if saying the words were incredibly painful for her.

"I...," she said finally, but any further thoughts were cut off by the deep bellow of the horn, somewhere close by.

"While I can appreciate that we're having a nice moment here," Varian said urgently, "We really need to run."

She nodded in agreement, blushing slightly. They made to move off, but Varian pulled up, wincing, as a burst of pain lanced through his leg.

"You've been moving too long and fast on that leg," she said, helping him to collapse against a tree trunk. "You shouldn't have exerted it to save me."

She looked around nervously.

"I feel it was worth the trade," he said, grunting in pain.

The horns blared again, closer this time.

"Hide," she said. "You're no use to me if you can't run. I'll lead them away. If I can lose them, I'll double back for you and we can escape. If I don't make it back, well, at least you'll have a chance."

"Auriana…"

"No arguments. I don't care if you are the King of Stormwind, you'll listen to me on this," she ordered, raising her chin as if daring him to disagree.

"To be fair, you've never seemed to care too much that I'm the King of Stormwind," he said lightly, shooting her a wry grin.

To his utter shock, he received a very small smile in return.

"Stay safe. I'll lead them as far as I can."

As she turned to go, he reached up and grasped her hand.

"Auriana… be careful," he said seriously.

She gave him a long, serious look. It almost looked as if she were going to say something, but she opted to give another small, tight smile instead, before turning and sprinting into the jungle.


	12. Varian

Varian concealed himself as best he could, which wasn't overly difficult in the dense foliage. Shalamayne was his main problem, due to its unwieldy size and the way it reflected the bright morning sunshine. Nevertheless, he was nearly fully hidden when he heard Auriana shouting in the distance.

"Crushfist!" he heard her scream. "Come find me, you coward! I'll slit you from neck to navel and send your yellow guts to your mother!"

Varian raised his eyebrows, somewhat impressed. In addition to being a powerful frost mage, apparently the girl could trade insults like a sailor. An orcish roar went up at her words, and he heard the thunder of orc feet heading in her direction.

It sounded like she was getting away. He listened carefully to the clamour of the orcish horde, Crushfist's gravelly voice rising above all, as he tried to discern as much information as possible. His heart leapt in his chest as he heard the pained cries of orcs as they fell to Auriana's magic. He hoped fervently that she had overcome them and escaped, until he heard a single scream that most certainly wasn't made by an orc.

They'd caught her.

Throwing caution to the wind, Varian dragged himself to his feet and limped towards the raucous braying of the orcs. He moved slowly, cautiously, but he wanted to get a decent view of what was happening, and he certainly wasn't just going to just lurk in the bushes when Auriana was in danger. It was one thing to hide if she were on the move, with a plan in action, but another situation entirely if she'd been caught. There was only so much he could learn from listening anyway, so he crept in as close as he dared.

What he saw turned his blood to ice. Crushfist had Auriana by the neck, her feet dangling nearly a foot off the ground. Her hands scraped desperately at the fist around her throat, and she futilely kicked out at the orc's shins.

"Where is he?" the orc demanded, shaking her roughly.

Auriana shook her head as best as she was able, and spit in Crushfist's face. Her own face was utterly fearless.

"It matters not. If you won't tell me where he's hiding, perhaps I can bait him out."

Varian watched as Crushfist dragged Auriana into a nearby clearing and flung her roughly to the ground. He pinned her chest beneath his heavy foot.

"I found your woman, little king!" the orc yelled into the jungle, with a sick, toothy grin, as Auriana struggled to breathe.

Her face was turned towards Varian, and he could see her pain and frustration, but mostly her fury.

"What does it say about a man when he lets a woman fight his battles for him?" Crushfist continued.

Varian seethed with rage, but he knew nothing would be gained by giving away his position at this stage, and so he waited silently in his hiding place. It had taken him a long time to learn that lesson.

"I know you can hear me!" Crushfist yelled. "She's a feisty bitch, I'll give you that, but you are a far greater prize."

Varian stayed absolutely still. The jungle air was thick with heat and tension.

"As you wish," the orc said finally, tired of waiting for Varian to emerge. "Shall we play a game? How many times do you think you can listen to her scream before you decide to show yourself?"

I'm not putting up with this, Varian thought, furious.

Blood pumping, Varian was ready to throw himself from the bushes as best as he was able, when Auriana somehow caught his eye in his hiding place. As if reading his mind, she shook her head ever so slightly. Hating himself, Varian obeyed her silent warning and remained hidden. He hoped desperately that she had some kind of a plan.

Crushfist had grown impatient.

"No answer? Very well. Let's play."

Before Varian could speak or move, Crushfist raised his hammer and brought it crushing down on Auriana's unprotected thigh. She screamed in agony as her femur shattered, the sound mingling horribly with Crushfist's cruel laugh. Varian saw red. Full to the brim with white hot rage, heartbeat thundering in his ears and heedless of his own injuries, the King of Stormwind charged out of the jungle.

With his fury up, Varian's arrow-wounded leg was now nothing more than a mere annoyance, though he knew in some dim corner of his mind that he'd pay for ignoring it later.

"So you are the king of men?" the orc snarled as he took stock of the man before him. "I thought you'd be taller."

Varian rolled his eyes.

"I would have preferred to fight someone a bit more impressive too, but we can't always get what we want, now can we?" he said, raising Shalamayne to a guard position.

Wielding the massive blade with one hand was difficult, but somehow he managed. On the ground behind Crushfist, Auriana had rolled onto her back, gasping for air. Her terrible screams had dulled to soft whimpers of pain. Varian was surprised she hadn't passed out. He almost wished she had, to be spared the agony of her ruined leg.

Crushfist laughed.

"You are amusing, little King," he cackled. "I will give you a death of honour."

The big orc hefted his hammer. Varian dropped his weight and prepared to face the charge. As he did, he locked eyes with Auriana. Fear, pain, and the bitterness of defeat were written all over her face. She reached a trembling hand towards him, to what end, he didn't know, and he didn't have the luxury of caring. He turned his attention back to Crushfist, though from the corner of his eyes he thought he saw the air around her fingers warp and shimmer as the orc charged.

Crushfist was a big brute, but he moved with a surprising quickness. Injured as he was, Varian barely had time to raise Shalamayne to parry the mighty swing of the hammer. Crushfist flew past him to the side, and Varian spun, ready to take on the next assault.

"Varian!" Auriana screamed, as Crushfist turned around for another pass.

"Do you hear that, human?" the orc taunted, taking his time. "Does it hurt to know that you cannot protect her?"

Varian growled. He knew very well when he was being toyed with. Any other day, he knew he would have the orc dead to rights, but with a useless shoulder and a leg injury, he knew he was in a world of trouble.

"Her screams for you are impressive, little king, but I am sure she would scream louder for me."

Varian snarled wordlessly, furious, and shot a quick glance at Auriana. He did a double take a second later when he realised she was no longer gazing at him in defeat or terror. Her blue eyes were still pained, but hopeful now, and she was straining to reach him, her fingers scrambling in the dirt as she tried to drag herself towards him. All of a sudden, he realised - she hadn't screamed in pain, or out of fear for him, she'd screamed to get his attention.

Portal, he realised with a desperate glee, she can open a portal.

He now understood that he didn't have to best the savage orc, he just had to reach the young mage. Crushfist came at him again, and this time Varian was ready. Unleashing all of his energy and his rage, adrenalin pumping, Varian ducked under the swing of the hammer and threw his weight behind a mighty blow at the orc's thigh. His shoulder and leg screamed in protest, but his one desperate attack had been enough. Shalamayne bit hungrily into the orc's leg and sent him reeling past, roaring his pain and disbelief. Crushfist staggered, bleeding, but Varian didn't care. He only had eyes for Auriana. Using his last reserves of energy, he charged towards her, diving for her outstretched fingers, and praying desperately that he'd reach her before the orc gathered himself.

At the last moment, Varian jumped, throwing himself at the mage. Crushfist roared, comprehension dawning, just as Varian slid down next to Auriana and covered her head protectively with his good arm. He felt her cold, bloody fingers grasp desperately for any part of him that she could find, finally finding purchase against the back of his neck. He felt a surge of magical power, his skin prickling, and the world around him vanished as Crushfist's last howl echoed in his ears.


	13. Khadgar

Khadgar paced nervously around the mage tower in Stormshield. He'd taken the traitorous wards down, but Auriana still hadn't returned with the King. It had taken him some work to unravel the fiendish constructions, but at long last he'd managed it, though Varian and Auriana were nowhere to be seen. In the meantime, the ambush survivors had all been returned safely to Stormshield, though they now faced Crewe's interrogation.

Ever since the wards had come down, Khadgar had jumped at every sign of activity in the main yard of Stormshield, looking for any clue of Varian or Auriana. She had to be trying to reach them, she had to.

Unless she'd been prevented, he thought darkly. Or she's dead. Or perhaps they both are...

Khadgar shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it. Such thoughts didn't help the situation in the slightest, and only served to make him feel wretched. It wasn't impossible to imagine, though. Varian was the most gifted warrior Khadgar had ever seen, and Auriana was a prodigious talent, but even two gifted fighters couldn't take on the full might of the Iron Horde alone.

He was just about to make his twenty-first lap of the room, when his sharp hearing picked up the cry of a guard. More cries followed, louder now, and Khadgar knew only the High King could create such an uproar.

Reaching out for his power, Khadgar teleported himself downstairs. There was some kind of fuss in the centre of Stormshield. Guards were racing in from all corners of the outpost, and a curious crowd had started to gather as well.

"Make way!" he ordered, and the guards and other various onlookers parted at the sound of his commanding voice.

At the centre of the commotion lay two figures. With a long sigh of relief, Khadgar recognised his young protégé and his King. They were posed awkwardly, Auriana flat on her back, while Varian crouched over her head. The king cupped one of her cheeks in one hand, gently shaking her, though she lay limp and lifeless. If not for the blood and dirt that covered both of them, they might have looked like a tableau from a fanciful romance - the sleeping maiden waiting to awaken to the king's kiss. A sword that could only be Shalamayne lay beside them, though Varian's armour was missing.

"Get back!" Varian screamed as a guard approached, offering aid, and Khadgar realised the king had not yet taken stock of his surroundings. He pushed his way forward.

"Varian! Varian!" he called, "It is I, Khadgar! You are in Stormshield! You are safe!"

Something of his words had evidently gotten through, for the King's eyes found him, some of his wild rage fading as he looked upon the archmage.

"Khadgar!" he called, relief flooding his features. "She needs a healer, now!"

"As do you, I think, old friend," Khadgar said, taking note of Varian's various bloodstained appendages and the strange way he held his shoulder. He knelt in the dirt next to the king and pressed his fingers to Auriana's neck. Her pulse was very, very weak.

"By the light, what happened out there, Varian?" Khadgar asked, wide eyed. "What happened to your shoulder?"

"Dislocated," Varian grunted, and for all the emotion in his voice he may as well have been talking about a paper cut. "I'll be fine. Her leg though…"

Khadgar followed the King's gaze and let out a sharp, angry hiss through his teeth. The younger mage's upper left thigh was a bloody mess, and he could see the sharp white gleam of bone through her pale flesh.

"Oh, light," he murmured. "What happened?"

"An orc hit her with a hammer," Varian said grimly. "I couldn't… I couldn't get to her in time."

"This is none of it your fault," Khadgar said sternly, though he doubted Varian would see it that way.

Two healers had pushed their way through, a stately Night Elf druid Khadgar thought he knew as Seladras Featheroak, and a young Pandaren monk he didn't recognise. The druid went to work on Auriana immediately, gently probing her wounds with his wild green magic. The healer frowned at Khadgar as he tried to work around Varian.

"Varian," Khadgar said softly. He placed a gentle hand on the King's good shoulder and tried to steer him out of the healer's way. "Let her go. She's safe here, and she'll have the very best care."

"The best is Anduin," Varian said vaguely. The king looked at his hand in sudden surprise, as if he hadn't realised he was holding her, and moved away abruptly.

Khadgar looped his arm under one of Varian's shoulders, and beckoned a guard to the King's other side. Together, they helped him stand as Martem Crewe came storming up. The relief on the bodyguard's face was palpable.

"My lord," he greeted Varian with a bow. "I am most relieved that you are alive."

''As am I, Crewe," the King said grimly to his bodyguard, but his gaze was fixed on Auriana. One of the guards had scooped the young mage up in his arms and was carrying her carefully towards Stormshield's infirmary while the druid and monk fussed over her.

"I'll be taking His Majesty back to Stormwind now, Khadgar," Crewe said firmly. "His personal healers will attend to him."

"Very well," said Khadgar. "Captain Crewe..."

"I no longer believe you are a traitor, Khadgar, but the fact remains that someone here betrayed us. His Majesty will be safer in Stormwind. I will return to Stormshield as soon as I am able, to help you hunt down the betrayer."

"As you wish," Khadgar acquiesced.

"Don't let anyone leave, Khadgar."

"I won't," he promised.

Crewe turned back to Varian.

"Should I order you a litter to carry you back to Stormwind, Your Majesty?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Crewe, I can manage," Varian growled. "Swap places with Khadgar."

Khadgar offloaded Varian's weight onto Crewe. He noted that the King's face was slightly pale, but otherwise he looked capable of travelling back to Stormwind relatively unaided.

"Are you ready to depart, Your Majesty?" Crewe asked, clearly eager to leave Draenor as soon as possible.

"Yes, very well," Varian agreed. "Khadgar, I want to know if anything changes with her condition. If she... if anything happens, you send for me immediately, you understand."

Once again, Khadgar wondered what on earth had happened between them out there in the jungle, but knew now was not the time to ask.

"Of course, Varian," he said smoothly. "I hope you recover quickly, and I promise I will find out who betrayed you to the Iron Horde."

"See that you do, Khadgar," Varian said darkly, as he turned away towards the portal.

Khadgar let out a long sigh of relief. Varian was alive, and safe. His injuries were severe, but he would recover quickly under the care of Stormwind's best healers. Auriana on the other hand...

Satisfied that Varian was safely through the portal, Khadgar turned and made his way towards the infirmary. The healers had carefully placed Auriana in one of the beds, where they worked diligently on her wounds. The combined glow of their magics had turned the room an unearthly green. The young Pandaren looked up as Khadgar entered.

"Greetings, Archmage Khadgar," he said warmly, fur crinkling as he smiled. "May the Jade Serpent guide you."

''Er... and you," Khadgar replied with an awkward smile. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met."

"Maoshi Hammerpaw, Archmage," the Pandaren replied.

"Please, Khadgar is fine," he said. "How is she?"

"Well, as you might have seen, she has suffered severe trauma to her leg. We'll be able to mend the bones, but she'll won't be up and running anytime soon, and I suspect she'll always be a little weak on that side," Maoshi said. "Other than her leg, she has a number of superficial scratches and bruises. It looked like someone tried to strangle her, but the cuts on her throat aren't deep and should heal right up. She had a fairly deep stab wound in her arm, but someone stitched it up fairly well, and it doesn't look infected."

"So she's not in any immediate danger?" Khadgar asked, relieved.

"No," Maoshi said with a reassuring smile. "She'll be fine. If it weren't for her leg she'd be out of the infirmary tomorrow. As it stands though, I'd like to keep her here for a few days so Seladras and I can administer regular treatments, and manage her pain."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Khadgar, and he meant it. "Is she awake?"

"Not yet," Maoshi said. "Seladras put her into an enchanted sleep while we tended to her wounds, and she shouldn't wake until tomorrow. Sleep will do her a world of good."

Khadgar nodded, rubbing his beard.

"Can I sit with her?" he asked.

Maoshi shared a look with Seladras, and the tall druid nodded.

"Of course," the Pandaren said warmly. "Seladras and I are finished for the time being. We will be upstairs, tending to some of our other patients if you need us."

"Thank you both," Khadgar said quietly.

"Until next time," the Pandaren said with a low bow, as he and Seladras bade their retreat from the room.

Khadgar found a small stool and pulled it over to Auriana's bedside. She slept like the dead, her skin as pale as a Death Knight's, except for her rather impressive collection of purple bruises. Even in sleep, her face was serious, her brow slightly crinkled and the corners of her mouth downturned. Khadgar brushed a lock of dark hair from her face. Her skin was icy cold to the touch, and if not for Maoshi's reassurances, he wouldn't have been convinced that she were alright. Khadgar readjusted his weight, trying to get comfortable. He wanted to be there when she woke up, not least because he wanted to discuss the events in Tanaan Jungle with her, as well as the identity of the traitor.

"Dream well," he murmured.


	14. Auriana

Auriana awoke to the gentle warmth of dawn sunlight on her cheek. She blinked dully, trying to remember where she was. The last thing she remembered was her leg, shattering, and Wrynn charging blindly out of the jungle in a futile attempt to protect her. She supposed she'd managed to teleport them to safety, because she was lying in some sort of hospital bed, and her leg didn't hurt anywhere near as badly as before. During the night, someone had switched her worn adventuring clothes with a set of soft, white cloth robes. She suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"Varian?" she called softly.

"Auriana?" someone said in reply, but it wasn't the voice she had been expecting.

She dragged herself upright. To her surprise, Khadgar was slumped next to her, perched awkwardly on a small stool. He shook his head dimly. Evidently, she'd woken him up.

"Auri!" he repeated, more brightly this time. His robes were crinkled and his grey-white hair was in disarray, but he looked genuinely pleased to see her awake.

"How… how long have you been sitting here?" she asked.

"Ah… all night, apparently," Khadgar replied. "You reappeared with the King yesterday morning. I've been keeping watch over you ever since… though apparently I fell asleep. Sorry about that."

"No mind," she said, touched by his gesture. "I can't imagine watching me sleep is the most exciting thing in the world."

"It was mostly uneventful," he agreed, "Except for the snoring."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" she growled, annoyed.

Khadgar's mouth twitched.

"Where's… Va… where's His Majesty?" she asked disdainfully, changing the topic.

"He's fine," Khadgar assured her. "They took him back to Stormwind, where he'll be well looked after."

"Good," Auriana said quietly, and she was surprised to find she meant it.

Khadgar looked at her curiously.

"What on earth happened out there?" he asked gently. His tone was casual, but she could tell he was more eager to know than he was letting on.

"I… sort of… missed… with the portal," she began, face burning hot with shame.

She hated admitting her failures, especially to Khadgar. "I tried to get us to Shadowmoon, but we ended up somewhere deeper in Tanaan Jungle. We found a cave to hide in. The King was injured. I did my best to look after him while I tried to open a portal back to Stormshield."

"I'm sorry it took so long to get those damned wards down," Khadgar apologised.

"Not your fault," she told him. "Did you find out what happened?"

"We'll discuss that in a moment," he said darkly. "Please, continue."

"We were safe, for awhile, until a patrol stumbled across us. They were lead by one of the Bleeding Hollow clan, a nasty piece of work named Borak Crushfist. I tried to lead them away while the King escaped, but Crushfist caught me and… broke my leg. He was about to kill us both when I realised the way to Stormshield was open to me. And, well… here we are. I don't remember much after that point, until I woke up here."

"I'm proud of you, Auri," Khadgar said, eyes kind. "You're a credit to the Alliance, and you've done your King a great service."

"Hardly. I nearly drowned him first," she admitted with a self-deprecating smile, but her ears warmed at Khadgar's praise.

There was a moment of companionable silence between them, before Khadgar spoke again. All warmth in his tone was gone, and he sounded almost as old as he looked.

"I gather you've realised we were betrayed," he said quietly.

"Yes," she answered, "It's the only explanation that makes sense. The King had only decided that morning that he wanted to see the Portal, but the ambush we faced was large and well prepared. It was no coincidence that they found our base, at the exact time the High King was visiting."

"Which means we have a problem."

"Yes," she said, and wondered if he were suspicious of her. "The only people who knew about the expedition were those who were in it, and of those, only six of us could have possibly cast those wards."

"The wards spoke of planning," Khadgar agreed. "I suspect that our traitor planted them long ago, perhaps even as Stormshield was founded, and has waited for an opportunity to use them to inflict the greatest damage. I haven't investigated my personal wards around Zangarra, either, but I suspect similar treachery. Someone prepared the spell to damage the wards a while ago, and has been waiting for their opportunity."

"I don't believe you would betray the Alliance," she said seriously. "Nor Varian Wrynn personally."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "Which leaves either Reyna, Aleister, the Maclir twins, or…"

"Me," she finished for him, and again she wondered if he seriously believed her to be complicit. "Though I think I can convince you of my innocence."

Khadgar sat back, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

"Very well," he said, "Convince me."

"If I had been the one to betray us to the Horde, Varian Wrynn would be lying dead in the jungle right now," she said simply. "He was weak, injured. I could have simply turned him over to the Iron Horde and reaped the rewards. If I'd wanted to maintain my cover, I could have killed him myself and claimed that he had died in the escape attempt. Few who were at the ambush would question the story."

Khadgar's eyes narrowed, and she felt like he were reading her very soul.

"I came to the same conclusion," he said finally, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "So the question remains - if you and I are innocent, who was it?"

"I've fought alongside all of them, Khadgar," she said sadly. "I can't believe that any of them are traitors. In truth, I can't believe any of them constructed wards capable of withstanding your abilities."

Khadgar harumphed, and she realised she'd hit a sore point.

"At least, not alone…" she said hurriedly. "How long did it take you to deconstruct them?"

"About four hours of careful spellcasting. They were very cleverly made. Most anti-teleport wards work by placing a sort of magical barrier between the caster and their destination. This method is generally effective, but it has a significant weakness. The wards can be overcome by a brute force magical attack, either by a superior spellcaster or several mages working in tandem. Your only hope is that your wards are stronger than whoever - or whatever - is attempting to break them down."

He shook his head.

"These wards, however, were far more cunning. As I dismantled the spell, I realised that they worked by sort of... scrambling... the coordinates of the ley network, so Stormshield wasn't where you believed it to be. It almost wouldn't matter how much power you threw at wards like that, because you'd still be trying to send yourself to the wrong place, and thus the portal would fail."

"I wouldn't have the slightest idea how to construct wards like that, though admittedly portals aren't my strong suit," she said.

"You're getting better," Khadgar said encouragingly, patting her arm. The gesture came off more patronising than he had perhaps intended.

She rolled her eyes, but gave him a small smile to let him know she wasn't entirely offended.

"Come now, Khadgar, we both know I'm wired for destruction over utility. Subtle spellcraft and magical theory have never been particular talents of mine."

"I still maintain you have improved, but we can debate your magical shortcomings later," he said, eyes sparkling. "In any case, I've never seen wards like that either."

"Not even when you were apprenticed to Medivh?"

"Medivh had no need for clever wards," Khadgar said. "There was no-one else alive who could possibly hope to penetrate Karazhan with a brute force assault. I don't doubt that he would have the ability to make them, however."

"Is there any chance they were constructed by a single spellcaster?" she asked.

"I could do it," Khadgar said confidently, "Especially now I've seen the spellwork. Jaina could, almost certainly, as well as the other Archmages of the Kirin Tor. You could do it, eventually, if you put half a mind to it, but I don't believe the others to be capable, at least not with their current powers. This suggests multiple casters working in concert… and multiple traitors in Stormshield."

He rubbed his eyes vigorously, as if the discussion were making his head ache.

"Perhaps not," Auriana disagreed, thinking back to her attempts to break the wards and reach Stormshield. She'd spent a good few hours that night in the jungle trying to break through, and she had detected something strange about the spellwork even then.

Khadgar looked up at her, interested.

"When I was trying to reach Stormshield, I took time to probe the wards, to see if I could find a weakness," she recalled. "I remember thinking that they didn't feel… right. They didn't feel… familiar. The magic around Zangarra felt the same. I think our traitor may have had help, but not from anyone who learned their skills on Azeroth."

"Ogres," Khadgar realised, following her train of thought to its logical conclusion. "Highmaul."

"They do have a non-aggression pact with the Iron Horde. The may have been willing to give up some of their secrets for a chance at the leadership of the Alliance," she pointed out.

"Dammit!" Khadgar cried, rising to his feet. "What I could learn if I could get inside Highmaul!"

He looked back down at Auriana, and she could slowly see his face change as he realised what help from Highmaul might mean.

"It can't be," he said quietly. "I've known him since he was sixteen, Auri."

"He's the only one of us who has been anywhere near Highmaul. He disappeared for two weeks, Khadgar, you know that, and he never said where he was. Do you honestly believe he was just… camping in Nagrand all that time?"

"No," he growled, pacing furiously. "He's loyal. He's always been loyal."

"But he's always been obsessed with magical power," Auriana pointed out. "If they caught him, if they offered him the secrets of the Gorian Empire in exchange for his loyalty, do you not think he would find that a worthy trade?"

Khadgar whirled on her, ready to deny it, but she could see in his eyes that he understood.

"Fine," the Archmage snapped. "I will question him."

"We will question him," she insisted, pulling the bed sheets off her legs. "I'm coming with you."

Her broken leg ached, but the healers had done a good job, and it wasn't quite as bad as she thought it might have been. She reminded herself to find out who they were, and thank them.

"Get me some crutches, please," she said to Khadgar.

He looked sceptical, but acquiesced with a small nod. He left the room briefly, returning moments later with a set of sturdy crutches.

Gingerly, she levered herself out of bed with a sharp groan of pain. Khadgar made to help her up, but she brushed him aside, determined to carry her own weight. She moved her weight slowly onto her good leg, and found she was able to stand with only a modicum of discomfort.

"After you," said Khadgar, gesturing to the door. She took a few limping steps towards the exit, when it occurred to her that they were rushing to confront the traitor unprepared.

"Wait," she told Khadgar. He moved to her side, thinking her in trouble, but she waved him off. "We should take precautions. After my return with the King, he must know that someone may come after him."

"That's a reasonable conclusion," Khadgar agreed. "In which case... let's prepare a little trap of our very own."


	15. Khadgar

Khadgar and Auriana made their way from the infirmary to the Stormshield inn. Auriana was rather graceless on her crutches, but she made her way to the inn well enough, and didn't mutter a word of complaint.

His heart was heavy as the inn loomed closer. He never thought he would find a traitor within his own ranks, much less a mage that he had hand-picked for the mission to Draenor, a man he'd worked with for many long years. Khadgar sighed.

As they entered the inn, the innkeeper shuffled forwards with a welcoming smile, ready to offer them food and drink, but stopped short at the look on Khadgar's face.

"I apologise for the interruption," he said kindly. "Please, where might we find Aleister Croft?"

"Up… upstairs," the innkeeper stammered. "He took rooms here a few weeks ago. Third door on the left."

"Thank you for your cooperation."

"You're welcome," the innkeeper replied, though she looked apprehensive.

"You have a lovely establishment," Khadgar said smoothly, and swept Auriana upstairs ahead of him, leaving the nonplussed innkeeper behind them.

Auriana struggled slightly with the stairs, but again refused his help.

Stubborn girl, Khadgar thought to himself, but respected her obvious desire for independence.

Khadgar counted out the doors, and knocked on the third one.

Croft appeared after a moment, and looked genuinely surprised to see Khadgar on his doorstep.

"Khadgar!" he said brightly, though Khadgar saw something darker move behind his eyes. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Auriana and I were talking on a point of magical theory, and we wanted to get your input," Khadgar said warmly. "Might we come in?"

For a brief moment, a myriad of expressions flashed across Croft's face, but he recovered well, and beckoned them inside.

"Of course, Khadgar," he said smoothly, stepping aside to allow them interest. "And Auriana! What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you up and about, given your injuries."

"Oh, you know me, Aleister," she said with a vicious smile. "It'll take more than a few clever wards to keep me down."

Khadgar shot her a look, and she at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed. He offered her a chair, and she gratefully accepted. Khadgar remained standing.

"Clever wards?" Croft asked, and Khadgar really was amazed at his ability to look nonplussed, "What's she talking about, Khadgar? Did you find out why we were unable to return to Stormshield?"

"I did, in fact. Auriana and I were just discussing the construction of several anti-portal wards that I found around Stormshield," Khadgar said. "We suspect that whoever planted them had help from within Highmaul."

Aleister paled at the mention of Highmaul.

"Ogres!" he stammered. "Is that so? Who among our number would have access to ogre magics?"

"I think you know, Aleister," Khadgar said quietly.

"What?" the other man yelled, suddenly furious. "You suspect me, Khadgar?"

"Yes," Khadgar said simply. "I do."

"Auriana…" Croft pleaded, turning to her. "You and I have been friends for years, you can't possibly believe this."

"What I want to believe and what I do believe are two different things, Aleister," she said calmly. "Tell us, what were you doing those two weeks in Nagrand where everyone believed you lost?"

"I told you!" he insisted. "I was researching ogre artifacts when I fell down a valley and injured my leg. I was unable to move until it healed."

"Why didn't you just teleport back to Stormshield?" Auriana asked.

"I… I was injured, Auri! I didn't have the power to call upon! You have to believe me!"

"You want us to believe that you, of all people, were made incapable of teleporting by a simple ankle injury? I just teleported myself home with a smashed femur, and I'm nowhere near as skilled at portals as you are," she pointed out.

Croft looked desperately from Auriana to Khadgar, seeking any kind of belief or sympathy, but he found none. Khadgar's eyes were cold.

"Fine!" Croft snarled. "Fine! You two, you think you're so clever. Not clever enough to break my wards though, were you, Khadgar? I saw you, you know, it took you hours. The great Archmage Khadgar, and you couldn't break through a few little wards."

He whirled on Auriana, eyes savage.

"Did it hurt?" he asked viciously.

"What?" she said, confused. "My leg?"

"No, not your damn leg," Croft snarled, "Did it hurt you to protect the life of a man you despise?"

What on earth is he talking about? Khadgar wondered, but from her face he could see that Croft's words had some kind of meaning to Auriana.

"I'll bet you were seething, weren't you, having to drag Varian Wrynn around that jungle, having to sacrifice yourself to keep him safe…"

"I did my duty, Croft, no matter my personal feelings about the man," Auriana said quietly. "Which is more than I can say for you, traitor."

"Oh, grow up, Auri," he snapped. "Duty, honour, loyalty? What worth do these things have against true power? You've been out there, you know what we're up against! What use is Varian Wrynn against the Burning Legion? I'm not a traitor, I'm just smart. There are secrets in Highmaul that you'd give your right arm for - secrets that could secure our victory. Horde, Alliance, Iron Horde, Gorian Empire - none of these things matter! All that matters is power!"

The man was practically raving now, his dark eyes wild.

"How did you do it?" Khadgar asked.

"I had the wards set for months," Croft confessed, drunk on his own genius. "The ogres taught me how. I simply waited for an opportune moment. When that idiot Wrynn suggested that we visit Tanaan, I knew it was the perfect opportunity. When I went to gather supplies for the expedition, I used the scrying orb in my chamber to alert the Iron Horde."

"And Zangarra?"

"Simple, really. You had already established anti-portal wards around Zangarra, and had set them to open for you alone. The basic spellwork was already there. It was an easy enough matter to use ogre magic to corrupt them to deny entrance to all portals, including yours."

Despite his situation, Croft maintained an air of arrogant superiority. Khadgar sighed.

"Aleister Croft," he said gravely, "By my authority as leader of the Draenor Expedition, I am placing you under arrest. You will be remanded into custody, and taken back to Stormwind to face trial."

"No, Khadgar, I really don't think I will," he threatened. Khadgar felt the other mage gather his power, only to discover that he was unable to teleport out.

"You aren't the only one who can make wards, Aleister," Auriana said smugly.

Khadgar called upon his own magic, and summoned a pair of arcane shackles. Aleister made to dodge around him out the door, but Khadgar body blocked him and forced him back into the room.

"I only look old, Aleister," Khadgar said. "You'll have to move faster than that."

He thrust the shackles at Croft.

"Put them on," he ordered, and seeing no way out, Croft complied.

"How can you not see it, Auriana?" Croft asked, turning towards her. 'You should understand. I've seen you cast, you crave magical power more than anyone I've ever met. Surely you can understand my actions here today. What are the lives of a few people against the secrets of a great magical empire, the secrets of the universe?"

Auriana looked like she'd been slapped, and Khadgar wondered if Croft had hit something close to home.

"I'll come by my power honestly," she said finally. "I'm not you."

"Give it time," Croft snarled.

Khadgar decided that he'd had enough. He grabbed Croft roughly by the shoulders and pushed him roughly out of the room. Khadgar marched the disgraced mage down the stairs ahead of him, while Auriana limped along behind them. The inn staff watched them curiously as the small group walked out into the cool morning air.

Khadgar beckoned to the nearest guard.

"This prisoner will need to be transported to Stormwind tomorrow," he said. "I will need time to prepare the necessary charges and documentation. Please make arrangements."

The guard saluted crisply. "I'll see to it immediately, Archmage."

Khadgar handed Croft over to the guard. The other mage shot him a filthy look, but remained silent as he was led away to the Stormshield prison.

He looked over at Auriana, and was alarmed to see how pale she looked, and how heavily she leant on her crutches.

"I think that's enough excitement for one day," he said. "Let's get you back to the infirmary, or Seladras and Maoshi will have my hide."

He was incredibly surprised when she offered no argument, and even allowed him to help her up the incline towards the infirmary.

"What was he talking about back there?" Khadgar asked. "About Varian?"

Auriana flushed.

"He's not exactly my... favourite person. It's a long story," she said carefully.

"Anything you'd like to talk about?"

"Not even slightly," she said, with a small shake of her head. "I wouldn't worry about it, Khadgar, I shouted at him a fair bit, but I think we come to an understanding of sorts."

"You... what?" he said, thoroughly confused.

Her mouth twitched, and for a second he thought she might actually laugh, but at the last moment her face smoothed into its usual expressionless mask. He honestly couldn't remember ever having witnessed her laughing, and vaguely wondered what such a thing might look like.

"Really, Khadgar, l wouldn't worry. I might even tell you the story over a drink sometime."

"I look forward to it," he said, with a raised eyebrow.

They had arrived at the infirmary.

"You'd best get inside," he said. "I probably shouldn't have taken you out this morning."

She looked behind her to see Seladras staring at both of them. He did not look impressed.

"I think you might be right there," she said guiltily. "It looks like we're both in trouble."

"Indeed. I'd like you to accompany Croft back to Stormwind tomorrow. Someone needs to keep an eye on him, and I'll prepare some documents for the King to facilitate his trial."

"Of course," she said.

"I'd like you to stay there, at least for a couple of weeks," he said. He raised a hand to cut her off as she opened her mouth to protest. "You need time to recover. I'm assigning you to portal duty."

"Fine," she sighed, throwing up her hands in defeat. "But portal duty? Really?"

"I seem to recall a conversation earlier today where you indicated a need to improve your abilities where portals are concerned," he said archly.

Auriana was at a complete lost for words. She opened her mouth to speak, but without any kind of recourse, she awkwardly turned on her crutches and stormed off as best as she could toward Seladras.

"You're an impossible man," she called back over her shoulder.

Khadgar smiled.


	16. Varian

Varian sat comfortably on his throne in Stormwind Keep, Genn Greymane at his usual position by his side. His shoulder was mostly healed, and his leg wound non-existent, thanks to Anduin's exceptional skills. Of course, his son still insisted on seeing him twice a day to administer further healing, but as far as Varian was concerned he was back to fighting form.

A message had arrived from Khadgar earlier that morning, indicating that the traitor would be delivered to Stormwind keep at midday. Despite Anduin's objections on behalf of Varian's shoulder, he wore his best plate, and Shalamayne gleamed at his side. He was determined to appear unbroken before the man whose treachery had nearly cost him his life.

A guard approached the throne and bowed low. Varian beckoned him to stand.

"We've just received word, Your Majesty," he reported briskly. "The party from Stormshield has just arrived, and will be entering the keep momentarily."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Varian said, and dismissed him.

True to the guard's word, a small entourage entered the keep a few minutes later. The traitor, Croft, was flanked by two guards, and another two guards followed behind him. His hands were bound by arcane shackles, which prevented his ability to cast magic. To Varian's utter surprise, the guards were followed by Auriana. She lagged slightly behind, hampered as she was by a set of crutches.

"I bring greetings from Archmage Khadgar," she said formally as she approached the throne. "As his representative, I have been sent to bring before you Aleister Croft, formerly of the Kirin Tor, to face the King's justice."

"Stormwind thanks both you and the Archmage for your excellent service in investigating this matter," Varian replied gravely. He wanted to ask her about her injury, but he knew the formalities needed to be observed. "What are the charges?"

"High treason, Your Majesty, resulting in the deaths of several Stormshield guards, and injury to the High King of the Alliance. Archmage Khadgar has laid down the charges, which I present to you now, along with a signed confession from the accused. The accused has confessed to spying for the Iron Horde, and for arranging the ambush that resulted in the events in Tanaan Jungle."

She nodded to one of the guards, who produced a sealed scroll and handed it to Varian.

"Very well. We shall discuss this matter further in the petitioner's chamber."

The four arresting guards, Croft, Auriana, Greymane, and Varian himself made their way down the hall to the petitioner's chamber. The chamber was relatively empty at this time, though Varian had to dismiss several guards and various public servants, with the exception of Bishop DeLavey. He offered Auriana a chair, to rest her injured leg, but she firmly declined his invitation.

"Auriana Fenwild, might I present Genn Greymane, King of Gilneas," he said.

"Your Majesty," she said to Greymane. "You'll forgive me if I don't bow."

"Of course," Greymane said warmly. "Varian has told me of your adventures in Tanaan, and I have no desire to add further to your injuries."

"And this is Bishop DeLavey," Varian continued. "He is well versed in the law of Stormwind, and often advises me on legal matters."

The imposing Bishop nodded at Auriana, and she returned the gesture in kind.

"Greetings, child. I hear you were instrumental in returning King Varian to us."

"It was my pleasure, Your Excellency," she said, pointedly ignoring the disbelieving look Varian shot her way.

Brief introductions aside, Varian turned on Aleister Croft.

"You stand accused of high treason against the crown. What say you in your own defence?" he asked.

Croft gazed at him shrewdly, his light brown eyes narrowed in unabashed contempt. He paused, considering his words carefully, and when he spoke, his voice dripped venom.

"I have no defence, Varian Wrynn, save that I did what needed to be done. The Iron Horde represents the best chance against the Burning Legion. As it stands, the Alliance will be crushed. We don't have the ambition to stand up to the enemies we face. I have no desire to become a mere ant beneath the boot of the Legion, and if that meant allying myself with the winning side, then so be it."

"You claim that you allied with the Iron Horde in order to bring down a greater foe," Greymane observed, "And yet I suspect that your true goal was personal power."

"Who would turn down the chance to be a god? I was simply killing two birds with one stone. The secrets of Highmaul and a chance to survive the coming apocalypse? How could I refuse such an offer?" Croft sneered. "For all you believe yourselves so high and mighty, you are all of you beneath me."

Varian looked around the room. Bishop DeLavey looked supremely offended, in the way that only nobles and clergymen can. Greymane looked simply disappointed, and Auriana's face was pure stone.

"Very well, then," he sighed, and unwound the scroll of charges provided by Khadgar. "Unless anyone has any arguments to the contrary, I am forced to recommend the charges as detailed by Archmage Khadgar. Aleister Croft, by order of the High King of the Alliance, you are charged with high treason. You will be remanded to the Stormwind Stockades until such a time as a trial can be arranged. You have the right to representation in the trial. If you do not select your own representation, it will be provided for you. Be warned, Croft, if found guilty you will pay with your life."

Accepting a quill proffered by Bishop DeLavey, Varian signed the order.

"You sign only your own death warrant, Wrynn," Croft spat.

"Perhaps," Varian replied calmly, "But you won't be around long enough to find out."

Varian beckoned to the two men holding Croft.

"See that he's taken to the Stockades. We will arrange his trial shortly," Varian ordered. "Until then, he is to be kept in solitary confinement. He is to remain shackled at all times."

One on each arm, the two guards escorted the silently fuming Croft from the keep. Once they had disappeared, Varian turned to the rest of the small group.

"I would to speak to Auriana alone," he said. "We'll just be a moment."

The remaining two guards followed the order with unhesitating efficiency, though Genn Greymane took slightly longer to comply. He looked carefully between Varian and Auriana, but acquiesced to the High King's command without a word, shepherding a far too interested Bishop DeLavey out the door ahead of him. Varian knew he'd face plenty of questions from the Gilnean King later, but right now his attention was focused on Auriana.

"Will he really be executed?" she asked quietly, once they were alone.

"If he's convicted, yes," Varian said.

It was something of an equivocation, because they both knew Croft was guilty.

"Unfortunately, the law of Stormwind is clear in this case. He committed high treason, which nearly resulted in the capture and death of the King. The penalty is death."

"He was a good man, once," she replied quietly, though she didn't argue with Varian's assessment of Croft's crimes.

"He won't suffer," Varian assured her. "Taking the life of a man, even a traitor, is no small thing. I've no desire to draw out his end. It will be quick and clean."

She nodded, though he knew his words were little comfort when they were discussing the execution of a former friend. She turned away from him, and idly leafed through a history book someone had left on the table.

"Auriana… about what happened in the jungle… about our… discussion..." he started.

"Please, my Lord," she said, cutting him off. She dropped the book and slowly turned to face him. "I… I apologise. I shouldn't have said the things I did."

"You have the right to an opinion," he said gently. "It's not one of my strong points, I'll admit, but I don't want to be the kind of King who refuses to hear any other points of view."

"Yes… but I could have expressed my… opinion… in a better way."

She gazed up at him intently. She was so small, he realised, that the top of her head was barely level with his shoulders. It made her look very vulnerable, though he knew she was anything but. He wondered why he had never noticed before, perhaps because most of his experience had involved watching her as she rained down death from her fingertips.

"So where does that leave us?" he asked.

He wasn't sure why, but he didn't like the idea of her hating him.

"A truce?" she suggested slowly. "I'm still not convinced that you did right by the Alliance in Orgrimmar… but I can understand your position. And… and I don't think you're a coward… or a terrible King."

He offered her a gauntleted fist, and she shook it after only a moment's hesitation. Her small hand nearly disappeared in his own.

"A truce, then," he agreed. "Though I'm not sure I need your approval of my leadership skills. This isn't a democracy."

She looked at him, brow furrowing, until she realised he was speaking somewhat in jest. She gave him a long, hard look, but the barest ghost of a smile crossed her face.

"On one condition," he added, holding her hand fast as she went to pull away.

"Yes, my Lord?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"My condition is this: continue to serve the Alliance as you have. I don't ask that you love me, but I do ask that you love the Alliance, and that you serve her faithfully to the best of your ability."

"I think I can agree to those terms," she said, voice warming.

They shook hands firmly, and he finally let her go. There was a moment of silence between them, but it was no longer as awkward as it had once been.

"You may have noticed that Khadgar... that my friends call me Auri," she said tentatively.

"Are we friends then?" he asked her.

"No," she said slowly, but a small grin played at the corner of her mouth.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, and her dark blue eyes gleamed.

"Well..." she amended, after a pause, "Not yet."


End file.
